#the fact you gave it a chance at all makes my heart grow three sizes!!!! heheh

[queenofbaws]

hey hi hello queenie i have a question for you that i just might've missed in your wips (shame on me for not catching up on like wringing blood) but do you see the hacketts as genuine wolves, what we'd normally expect a werewolf to look like, or what they canonically look like in game? i'm curious :)

(because, if i'm being honest, if i saw that creature in-game that is supposed to be a werewolf, werewolf would not be my first assumption, and i'm sure you understand)

well hey hi hello quill, i have an answer for you!!! ;)c

i see the hacketts, first and foremost, as walking catastrophes, so whether or not they're Traditional Werewolves™️ depends ENTIRELY AND COMPLETELY on how funny i, personally, find it for whatever project is going on aksdjflksjflksajflkasjdfkj so, for like wringing blood from a stone, i am 100% picturing them as they appear in canon - weird, fleshy monstrosities - because i like being able to draw parallels between them and what jack used to hunt in until dawn, not to mention i just.........i feel like the opportunity for body horror is *chefs kiss* so much better, but in other projects i'm working on, they are absolutely mangy, rangy, flea-bitten mutts hehehe

i have to be honest too, at first i wasn't a fan, but as time has gone on, the gross skin-beast-creature-thing design has really grown on me 😫 because you're right!!!!!!!!!!! you're SO RIGHT!!!!!! if i saw that creature hurtling towards me, my first thought would not be "is that a fuckin werewolf," it'd be "WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK!!!!!" and i sort of like that!

(it for sure makes the "aw man, no, no way anything supernatural's going on, that's for sure just a bear" argument even funnier imo, and as we've established.....i'm in it for the bit if nothing else aslkdjflkasjflksjdklfjsldkfj)

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐝𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: I think this might be one of my favourite headcanons that I’ve written, especially for Narnia...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ    

SFW🌿

⭑ “Free-spirited, artistic, and somewhat aloof,” Aslan had named the three words that described you. Lucy wanted to know what the new seamstress was like, since you would be around them a lot. 

⭑ The young queen was puzzled by these words, not because she didn’t understand their meaning, but because their old seamstress was just that ... old. 

⭑ “Doesn’t seem like she’d make a very good seamstress then,” Susan retorted. Shuffling papers together. 

⭑ Aslan gave a short chuckle and strode out of the council chamber, Lucy on his heels. 

⭑ “Just give her a chance,” he stated to no one in particular. 

⭑ And they had. The Pevensie siblings had their reservations, since they had grown accustomed to their old seamstress of many years, but they were open to you. 

⭑ You put Susan’s teeth on edge for the first few weeks. Her constant worries were met with your smiles and nods. 

⭑ But you never left their clothes too late, or too loose or too tight. 

⭑ You were a brilliant seamstress - one that could create beautiful clothes from nothing but a curtain and some rope. 

⭑ Peter liked you - 

⭑ So did Lucy

⭑ They both admired your creative and out-of-the-box nature. Which was saying something because you did grow up in a land with dwarfs and talking animals. 

⭑ And because the Pevensie’s were the only humans in Narnia, your lineage was confusing. 

⭑ “So, you’re not a human woman...” Lucy had said one sunny afternoon. “But you’re not a faun or dwarf and you definitely don’t have a tail..” You both laughed at that

⭑ “No, not that I’ve noticed,” you replied heartily

⭑ It was difficult to explain, but you were part fairy. A fae-human hybrid that could enter people’s dreams, stop aging and with great effort - fly. (Click here if you want to know more, I had no idea how many creatures actually lived in Narnia...)

⭑ Edmund was ... wary of you. His actions with the White Witch still clouded his mind and his guilt felt heavy. 

⭑ But you didn’t hold it against him. 

⭑ No one can be all good, and live without mistakes. There would be no point in living if we were all perfect. 

⭑ And so, being around you was like he could breathe again. 

⭑ You took his worries, anxieties, and self-hatred and blew it away. As if your very being was magic (and it was.)

⭑ Edmund told you about his nightmares, and how the White Witch still haunted him. Even though years and years had passed by. 

⭑ You perked up even more - because that was one of your talents. You could enter people’s dream state and alter their nightmares/dreams. 

⭑ And that night ... you did -

⭑ It was the first night in years that he had a full nights sleep. He did not wake up once.  

⭑ The first thing he did when he woke the next morning was run to you. Already in your work room, hunched over a spinning wheel and humming to yourself. You glittered in the sunlight, and Edmund was struck with such a new feeling. ‘Love,’ he thought, ‘this must be what it feels like.’

⭑ He didn’t enter the room, but rather turned around, and went to find Lucy. 

⭑ Edmund explained his feelings and wanted her opinion on what to do next. Since she spent the most time with you. 

⭑ The romance that Edmund was showing you made your heart soar. Not many people... or creatures, had shown you attention like this. 

⭑ And a king?

⭑ Well... what person wouldn’t want this attention ... 

⭑ And since the politics of marrying weren’t so harsh on Edmund - Lucy defended her brother and you. She was the biggest advocate for your relationship. 

⭑ “Wouldn’t it be a positive for the Narnians to see one of them on the throne? Next to a King?” Her point was extremely valid. And although Susan could argue - the fact was ... she didn’t want to. She didn’t want to argue against her brother. Or against you. 

⭑ Susan could see the good you brought him - the light that shone in his eyes now. 

⭑ So you married. 

⭑ And it was one of the happiest days of your life. 

⭑ Your days were still filled with work - 

⭑ You didn’t want to give up your position as a seamstress

⭑ So you were now ... the royal seamstress? Queen of the seamstresses? 

⭑ Anywho - you were still creating for the Kings and Queens of Narnia. Your family. 

⭑ You moved into Edmund’s chambers and it was ... awkward at first. Well, he was awkward. You just watched as he showed you around the chamber (because it was quite large.)

⭑ An ensuite, a large oak desk with a chair to match, a four-poster bed, marble floor to ceiling. It was all so elaborate. 

⭑ He showed you where you could have your stuff, but began moving his - because he instantly felt bad that he had made that decision for you. 

    “Actually, I’ll just move my stuff. You choose!” 

⭑ Your heart swelled. He cared so much about you

⭑ Ed sleeps closest to the door (so that if there’s a threat he can protect you)

⭑ He wakes up first, and gazes at you adoringly for hours

   “Ed...”

“Yeah?”

     “You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry, you’re just...so pretty...”

⭑ Helping each other get ready in the mornings and nights. 

⭑ He never has nightmares again, even though you don’t use your powers. It’s because of your union, AND your proximity when sleeping. 

⭑ Lucy will burst into the room some mornings, waking both you and Ed. She leaps onto your bed and snuggles in between you two. 

⭑ Relationship Tropes: 

  ✧ Off the Walls Eccentric (You) x Emotional Wall with 1 Weakness (Ed)

  ✧ Tough on the Outside, Soft on the Inside (Ed) x The Top (You)

  ✧ Aggressively Supportive

[deniigi]

Please have some Skywalker Babies + Uncle Rex.

----

Title: skittles

Summary: Padme dies, but Anakin doesn't turn and as a result ends up with two little ones who are, naturally, adopted by the 501st--well, Leia is. Luke keeps getting stolen by a filthy thief.

------

Rex has the twins for now. He has never felt terror like this before. He can’t stop checking over his shoulders for threats to their teeny tiny persons.

In his humble opinion, it should be illegal for humans to be born this small. He ran it past Ahsoka recently and she agreed, but she also provided intelligence that the twins’ size was not necessarily average for their species, either.

The other brothers helped him investigate this. They all gathered round and put the holonet searches on the projector so that they didn’t have to smash buckets over a datapad screen to be educated. Their search for ‘newborn natborn human baby’ was rewarded with images upon images of reddened tubies with big, round bellies and curled up limbs.

They did a new search for ‘2 weeks, natborn human baby’ and were rewarded with even more pictures, to which they held the twins up next to and found them wanting. The twins’ proportions were all wrong, their limbs were too skinny, their faces pinched. The babies on the holonet didn’t have hair, but their baby girl did.

The conclusion was that the research was inconclusive. Further, it was interrupted by the resident thief coming in to take his chances. Cody told them later, upon returning their baby boy, that they were better than this. Kenobi wasn’t slick. They needed to stop letting their guards now.

He said all this while ignoring the way the baby boy burrowed into the side of his throat and made smacking noises.

Such a strong man, that Cody. He is, unfortunately, not available now even though Rex has both twins and a heart attack waiting to happen.

The Thief is nearby. Rex can sense him. He heads back the way he came.

 --

The baby girl, who has a name, but Anakin is too heartbroken to speak it, fists her hands at Rex and shakes them as if to threaten him into compliance. He does not know how to help her understand that he has not taken the blanket off her face out of malice, but rather to keep her from suffocating. She is angry with him regardless. She is often angry with him and endlessly crying when he does not put her exactly where she wants to be exactly when she wants it.

The thief calls her a princess, and so everyone else has started doing the same in lieu of her name. The child is bound to grow up thinking her name itself is ‘Princess’ at this rate. Ahsoka has been trying out different titles for her, but she doesn’t respond to them in the same way.

For all that the princess is royalty through and through, the baby boy is thoroughly a commoner. Catching him awake is a miracle. Part of that is because his waking hours are spent with the Thief, since Kenobi has decided, for some mysterious reason, that this child is his favorite of all in existence. He will not be separated from this child and when he is, he gets crafty in his attempts to get him back.

The princess does not like Kenobi. At all, period. He touches her and she screams and reaches her stubby hands for Rex. If Rex is not available to be screamed for, she will wail until her father comes to stuff her in his tunic.

Anakin is fine to hold the princess, but he cannot look upon the baby boy, even to feed him. He looks so much like his mother. It is a struggle for everyone—except Kenobi. Rex wonders aloud to Ahsoka if Kenobi will raise the boy on his own and a moment of silence fills the canteen.

Ahsoka throws herself from the room and goes sprinting for the masters’ quarters.

 --

 The twins are tested for Force Sensitivity and it becomes abundantly clear why Kenobi continues hoard the baby boy against all sense and wisdom. He is described by the jedi as a ‘sun’ in the Force. The princess too, but her presence in the Force blends in with her father’s until she is gazed upon in Rex’s Force-empty grip.

Only then is she, too, declared a star.

Twin stars, they are called.

‘Kenobi, put that down,’ the boy is named. ‘Kenobi, give that back,’ is his middle one.

The first time Rex sees the baby boy awake, he is startled by how blue his eyes are. His sister’s are dark, but his are light like water at the base of a waterfall. He makes a little sound and turns his heavy head to the side to blink at Rex’s forearm.

He is the older of the two, but the Princess is already overtaking him in weight. Kenobi has been scolded for this. In return, he locks everyone out of his quarters.

 --

 The twins are two months old when they stop being blinky-maggots and turn into smiley ones. Anakin cannot put the princess down or she will scream until she is blue in the face. As such their dedicated General can be found with his arms full, slowly banging his head against the nearest hard object.

He calls her ‘Leia.’ Princess Leia.

The baby boy is ‘Luke.’ Just Luke.

Anakin spends his time these days bouncing Leia and on the hunt for his son. He walks like a zombie towards Kenobi’s door and plasters his back against it. He slides down and tries desperately not to fall asleep at the bottom.

He will not let Rex take the princess when he’s in this state. He wants only for Kenobi to open the door so that he can fall back onto his floor and demand his son. Kenobi never gives him his son back. There is no longer any question that baby Luke is Kenobi’s child. The fact that he’s been produced by Anakin and Padme is a footnote in the broader history being made here.

Kenobi will, however, take Princess Leia, too, if left unsupervised. She still hates him—more than ever, really, but he doesn’t mind. He likes to lay the twins out together so that Leia’s jerky fussing will ruin Luke’s sleep cycles.

Kenobi is a man with no respect for the law in these parts. More jedi masters have to step in to get him under control. Master Koon takes the most pity on Anakin and gives him both of his children. The masters and the clones watch him stagger up with both babies and drunkenly return to their quarters.

A note is made to check on all three of them in fifteen minutes.

 --

 The twins, at 6 months old, have developed even more distinct personalities and hair. So much hair. Ahsoka puts Leia’s hair in pigtails and Leia will scream if anyone tries to adjust them or if she feels that they are falling out of shape.

Rex’s hands were once clumsy around ring-sized rubber bands. He is now an expert. He is such an expert that he can even make the occasional one stay in Luke’s slippery hair, which, of course, invokes an expression of betrayal in Luke that is so comical, Rex can’t see it without being brought to tears.

Luke hates him for this. He whimpers for his father—no, not that one. The good one.

These days, Kenobi is a cat who has gotten the cream.

The boy called him ‘dada’ before he gave the name to Anakin, and Kenobi nearly lost his life for it. He regrets nothing. He is technically barred from being around Luke, both by the other jedi and by Anakin specifically, but rules are things for other people in Kenobi’s world.

Anakin threatens him with bodily harm at every opportunity that he is not holding his daughter upside down.

She enjoys this. This is not just a daddy-thing to her either; she expects everyone to carry her like this. If not feet-to-the-sky, then at least draped over an arm, face-down like a sack of flour. She hums the way a cat would purr.

 --

 At nine months the babes are mobile and it is the worst thing that has happened to Anakin besides Padme’s death. They are not effectively mobile, but they are professionals at grabbing things and hauling themselves up to their chubby feet. Leia holds onto the fingers of anyone she can get and makes every brother who passes her walk her on their feet to her chosen destination.

Luke is a little slower.

He can get to his feet, but what he wants is to bounce there. If anyone tries to hold his hands, he clams up and falls down and doesn’t get up.

Anakin has begun negotiating with Leia to be more like her brother. She laughs at his face in great peels when he does this. She finds his serious expressions hilarious and wants to cuddle him anytime they appear which is great for domestic time and not so great for council or state meetings. Anakin has taken to appearing before these people with Leia latched around his ankle. Only her, though. Luke can’t bear being in the presence of so many bodies at once. He becomes overwhelmed and handles the pressure by going to sleep. Or crying.

For Kenobi, of course.

And when Kenobi is not around, they all may as well go start digging their own graves before the guilt propels them to do it anyways.

Luke is not a big crier. Anakin can’t understand him. They’ve had many conversations about telling adults when he needs things, all of which Luke elects to ignore in favor of trying to eat bugs and dig in sand.

The latter is the greatest sin that Anakin can dream of.

--

I just think that, given the opportunity, Obi-Wan would be the best grandpa ever and by best, I mean he would see his chance to have a baby and Anakin would end up chasing him around going ‘he’s MY mistake and MY responsibility, you crusty old fucker, give him back’ while Obi-Wan talks to Ahsoka about how nice the weather is.

[taones]

If You Can Hold On - Part 2

Pairing: Poly!Asahi, Daichi + Suga x gender neutral!reader

Notes: lowkey have a mention of Yachi x Kiyoko in this ayyyy and the reader reflecting my thoughts about rain whoop 

Warnings: pining, angst, requited-unrequited love cause we love some dramatic irony, this whole series is hurt/comfort

Find part one here

Soft murmurs woke you from your rough sleep. After hearing them talk about adding another person to their relationship, it was kind of hard to have a good rest. The car had stopped. You four were now parked in a motel car park, bathed in the signs' soft red light. 

“I went in but they only have one room, so all four of us will have to share” 

The disappointed tone to Daichi’s statement felt like an arrow through your heart. You guys were best friends, you shared beds all the time. Why would that matter now? Ever since you had known them you had been comfortable sharing beds etc, even after they started dating. The fact it was different now made you think back to their earlier conversation about a new partner. Did this person not like you? Maybe that was why they weren’t as close with you. The shuffling of your tallest friend pulled your attention once again. They were getting out of the car.

Once again, you pretended to be asleep. There was now ay you were ready to face them without crying and you really didn’t want Asahi to ask for his hoodie back. You were scared it would be the last part of him you had for a long time. The sharp twinge of panic shot through your stomach at the thought of it. There was always a chance that their new partner would like you but not as many people would be as comfortable with their s/o being as close to their friend as those three were. 

“It’s okay” you heard Asahi whisper, “I’ll carry them”

You stirred at that. If he touched you, you were certain you would cry. S it was a perfect time to break your facade. The soft glimmer of tears in your eyes was hidden by the scarlet light shining on your face, something you were thankful for. Cold, wet gravel seeped through the mesh of your shoes but it was okay as long as you were going to be in the room soon, able to be away from the constant reminder the boys gave you. In your ‘sleepy’ state, you pulled your bags out of the car and grabbed the keys from Daichi’s hand. In your haste to walk away, you missed the look of despair on Asahi’s face and the way his shorter boyfriend held his hand to his chest as if you had burnt it with your hasty touch.

The room itself was painted a bright yellow, something you assumed would be more bright if you weren’t feeling so dull yourself. There was a queen size bed in the centre of the room and a sofa off to the side. It was as if the red of the sofa cushions was mocking you with its garish colour, reminding you that you would never actually be with the other three. You scoffed and layed your things on the sofa before pulling out some pyjama shorts and one of Koushi’s t-shirts that you had borrowed. Just as the boys came in, you disappeared into the tiny bathroom to get changed. 

Thinking you had escaped, you sighed and leant against the door. Only to hear the voices of the three men loud and clear. 

“I wonder what’s wrong with y/n” Koushi asked, seemingly dismissive

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon, they don’t hide anything from us” the comforting voice of Sawamura responded

If only they knew just how much you hid from them. If only they knew that even being around them right now was literally breaking your heart. 

“Wait look what I took the other day Suga, it’ll cheer you up”

You heard Azumane pull out his phone and then a sound of awe from the grey haired man.

“I wish we could ask them to join us sooner but we have to wait till we’re back huh?” Suga lamented, “wish this trip could be over already” 

Ouch, that one hurt.

So he was showing them a picture of this mystery person. You really didn’t understand why they hadn’t told you yet. It only made the feeling of dread in you grow, expanding into a pit that sucked in all of your other emotions. If they really wanted this to be over then you may as well just leave them now. Let them leave you behind and pursue this person that you’ll never be.

A knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Looking in the mirror, you noticed tears you didn’t realise had fallen. You managed to hastily rub the evidence of your face and leave the yellow lit room in time for it to not seem too suspicious. You grabbed the blanket that had been laid over the sofa and walked out the door. 

“I’ll be right back, just have to do something” you muttered, avoiding eye contact “don’t wait up for me” 

Cold gravel crunched against your shoes once again and air pricked at your exposed legs. The pool. It was dimly lit but hadn’t been covered so you assumed it was okay for you to sit in. The water was a clear blue and slightly warmed from the earlier sunshine. Perfect for you to stick your legs in. Water and night had always managed to calm you down and stop your thoughts racing. While this was no rain storm, it was good enough for you to swish your cold limbs in and make the calming sounds you liked so much. 

Your reflection stared back at you from the water. There was no hiding the mess you were in, hair dishevelled and an old blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It was no wonder they didn’t want you. The soft ringtone you recognised as Kiyoko’s wrenched you back to reality.

“Hello?” you sniffed down the phone

Kiyoko was another best friend of yours but one you were fortunately not in love with. She and Yachi had been on holiday when you had left but it was clear the couple was now back. Shimizu was the only person that knew about your feelings.

“How are you holding up y/n” her soft voice rang in your ears

“Not well” you admitted, “It’s like they’re doing it on purpose Shimizu”

She hummed, never one for too many words

“They want to add another person to their relationship but they made sure i was sleeping when they talked about it. I don’t know why but it hurts Kiyoko. I know it’s selfish but it hurts so bad, I don’t know how much longer I can take this trip”

Something inside you broke down. It had been a while since you had been able to get this off your chest and it was like a weight was lifted from your shoulders. Tears rolled down your cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time this trip.

“Do you need us to come pick you up y/n?” the woman's voice asked, concern clear

“I really don't know” you admitted with defeat, “I’ll see how it goes but I hate this so much”

The conversation ended rather quickly after that. It was late for you both after all and it had started raining so you had to put your phone in your bag to prevent it from getting wet. What you didn’t notice was the flash of cropped brunette hair disappearing behind your room door.

Cold rain hit your skin. It was refreshing, a break from what you were feeling. Rain was simple. Rain didn’t have feelings, didn’t have thoughts. It was just nice, cool rain and you revelled in it’s simplistic beauty. With closed eyes, you laid on the pool tile and let the droplets hit your face. Even as it got colder and heavier, it was nothing compared to what you felt on the inside and this was something you were thankful for. The silence was comforting and you let your mind slip into nothing but the rain.

Suga came out to check on you after half an hour, worried about the rain. When he saw you laying next to the pool, covered in a layer of wetness and your face cold, he felt a cold wash of fear come over him. The soft rise and fall of your chest reassured him but he knew he would have to get you inside. Asahi came to stand next to his shorter partner, resting his chin on his shoulder sleepily. 

“I wish I knew what was going on in their head sometimes” the grey haired man whispered, “I wish I knew how to save them”

His counterpart hummed and moved to pick your sleeping figure from the ground. You were cold to the touch and your face lacked the despair that had been plaguing it for the whole trip. He felt a flower of guilt grow in the pit of his stomach at the thought the rain had made you happier then they ever could. 

“C’mon” called Daichi from the doorway, “They’re gonna catch their death we need to get them some clothes”

You limp hand came up to grasp at the fabric, not wanting to let go of the comforting presence even in sleep. Three melancholy smiles were sent your way, not that you would ever know. They knew you hated smiles of pity, even if that’s the only ones you really seemed to get from them anymore.

@bewwybun @xeina @mage-moon @naimalove143 @bisasterrr @aristatrois​ @hamiltrash1411​ @tazzi-baby​ @adreamoflonelyaddiction​ 

Hope you guys enjoy, sorry it took so long and sorry about any typos it’s been a long week

[tataswish]

❝   at the rooftop  /  myg.

━   ・  paring:  aspiring rapper!min yoongi x reader. ━   ・ genre:  neighbors au, smut, fluff, with a pinch of angst. ━   ・ word count:  5.0k.   ━   ・  contains:  mutual pining, dirty talk, unprotective sex (wrap it before you tap it!), rooftop sex, and a little bit of sadness at the end. ━   ・  summary:  in which you look back at the memories you’ve made with yoongi, the neighbor who you once fell in love with. heavily inspired by the song ‘the one that got away.’

author’s note:  i had a dream about this so... here it is. LMAO. it’s been i while since i last wrote so excuse my rambling but happy reading! i thought about making a mini series out of this but... we’ll see. <3

The day you first met Min Yoongi was a memory you always looked fondly back at.

It happened one gloomy afternoon. After another tiresome day at work, you decided to find solace on your apartment building’s rooftop—a place that easily became your go-to whenever you wanted to spend time in solitude. No one ever really was up there (with the exception of the parties thrown by residents from time to time), so it was always strange seeing someone else who wasn’t you up there.

There was something about that place that brings you so much comfort. Maybe it was the string lights that hang perfectly across the ledges, the mixture of house plants displayed around the area, or the inviting smell of vanilla greeting your nose from the candles on almost every surface—it was nice. If the chance presented itself, you would be there for hours on end doing nothing and be content with it.

Making your way towards the rattan sofa that sat right beside the ledge, your tracks were suddenly put to a stop upon seeing an unfamiliar face sitting at that very same spot. He was leaning back on one side of  the off-white cushion, legs slightly spread apart, chilled bottle of beer in hand as his eyes gaze absentmindedly at the view of the city skyline beside him. He must’ve been so lost in thought, because even with you standing in front of him, he didn’t move.

“Is that seat taken?” you asked amidst the silence while feigning a warm smile.

That was enough for him to finally snap out of his trance, because you could see him jump from his spot and immediately straighten his posture. You couldn’t help but stifle a soft laugh. “No—no, yeah, no. It’s not. I was getting ready to leave anyway, so—” he was already beginning to stand from where he was sitting, obviously flustered at the situation he’s been put in.

“I don’t mind sharing!” you interjected before impulsively placing a hand on the stranger’s arm as some sort of reassurance. At the realization, your eyes began to grow two times its size, and you retracted it at an instant with your cheeks flushed.

It was silent for a moment. Between you trying to gage how he felt about the sudden contact and him wondering what the fuck just happened, it clearly triggered some sort of fight of flight response. Your mind was scrambling, trying to find the right thing to say, but before you could even open your mouth—

He laughed. It was a low, yet bubbly laugh—one that you never thought would eventually fall in love with. As the lights above perfectly illuminated his features, that moment was also the first time you saw him smile. There was something stirring up within you, a feeling that gave you so much warmth from merely watching this stranger express happiness, even if it was for a brief moment.

In fact, it was so contagious that you began to laugh too.

You didn’t think you’d enjoy being comfortable with silence until you met Yoongi. Despite the fact that you spent a majority of that evening sitting in silence, it didn’t bother you at all. In most instances with others, you almost always felt obligated to say something, anything after a while but you didn’t feel that pressure with him—this stranger that you’ve only met three hours ago.

Still, you basked in the moment. The two of you sat together on that large couch, sharing the view. You were sitting with your legs criss-crossed, both arms resting over them, while Yoongi relaxed by sinking deeper into the cushion, one arm resting on the couch’s back—which was also right behind yours. You immediately learned that he, unlike yourself, wasn’t much of a talker. In the few hours you’ve spent with him on the rooftop, you’ve only learned: his name, age, and the fact that he moved into this building just today. Why? That was a mystery you’ve yet to discover. You also didn’t want to be that person who practically interrogates the new guy, trying to discover his whole life story in the span of one night. If he was living in the same building, you were confident you’d see him around from time to time anyway. Besides, it was evident that the two of you were already comfortable with each other’s presence.

“What kind of music do you listen to?” The question took you by surprise. From staring at the skyline, he then glanced back at you, eyebrow slightly cocked.

It took you a minute to think of something. If Yoongi was the type of person who took people’s music tastes seriously, you wanted to make sure you’d give a solid response—but then again, you wanted to avoid an obvious copout answer either. Truth be told, your music taste was all over the place. Shuffling any of your Spotify playlists was a dangerous game, because it could jump from contrasting genres that wouldn’t make any sense.

So you kind of… panicked.

“I like anything,” you blurted out, already regretting your choice of words. Deep inside, you were cringing, because it left a bad taste in your mouth.

You knew he was going to be disapproving of that answer, but he surprised you with a different reaction instead. Instead, he let out a small chuckle. “Anything, huh? What about rap? I have something I want you to listen to.”

Intrigued, you adjusted your position on the couch, eyes watching him as he shuffled to get his phone out of his pocket. The black, chunky headphones that hugged his neck were then offered to you, and you flashed a small grin upon taking it before putting it on yourself. At this point you were curious. So, your prying set of eyes continued to watch his phone’s screen as he scrolled through a list of what seemed to be recordings until selecting a file that was named Trivia 轉: Seesaw.

You weren’t sure what to expect. Initially, you thought this was some random song recommendation that he wanted to share with you, but it was much more than that. The moment you heard the artist of this track begin to sing the first verse, you were left in shock. “Is this you?” you mouthed quietly over to him, who to your surprise, was now sitting incredibly close to you. It took you a minute to notice the way that your knees were pressed against one another, faces inches apart.

He smiled bashfully with a nod. Truth be told, you didn’t expect it. Yet, you were sitting there, head nodding to the beat as the melody graced your ears. Despite only knowing him for only three hours, you knew that there was something about this song that… suited him so well. You weren’t sure if it was the eloquent rapping or the deep lyrics behind it, it all screamed Yoongi.

And you were in love with it. It became one of your favorite things to listen to.

“I can’t believe…” you trailed off once the song finished, gently lifting the headphones off of you to give them back. “I went on with my life without being blessed by this song until now. Yoongi, that was fucking amazing. If I knew you longer, I would’ve started crying but… I spared you the misery tonight.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, flattered—but feeling shy at the same time. “Relax, ____, you don’t have to kiss my ass. I can take criticism. It hasn’t even been released yet; I just wanted to get your opinion on it.” Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he looked at you expectantly. “Tell me the truth.”

“I’m serious, Yoongi. I swear on my life,” you assured softly, a smile growing across your lips as your hand raises to swear by it. “It’s definitely one of those songs that people are going to play on repeat. Everyone’s going to love it.”

“Yeah?” he asked, attempting to hide his widening grin.

At this point your gazes were locked with one another, and you could’ve sworn he could hear the rampant beating of your heart. “Yeah,” you confidently answered back.

Later that night was the time you discovered that Min Yoongi was actually your newfound neighbor. It all happened by accident—the two of you meant to part ways after leaving the rooftop, but ended up taking the same flight of stairs down, walking through the same hallway, and stopping right next to each other after saying “bye” at the same time upon reaching both of your doors.

“Stalking me already? Really?” you quipped playfully, looking back after opening your door.

“How do I know you’re not stalking me first?” he joked in return, suggestively raising an eyebrow. He finished unlocking his own door too.

“I mean, I lived here first, so… pack it up Joe from You.” And your answer was enough for the two of you to fall into a giggling fit after.

Yoongi was the first to say goodbye. He continued to stand before his door, hand on the knob despite not wanting to step inside any time soon. “Thanks for letting me crash your alone time today... and for listening to my shitty music. It was nice.”

“Of course,” you replied warmly. “I won’t argue with you, but know that as of today, I’ve become Suga’s #1 fan. Expect me to be in the front row of your shows from now on.”

Even with the roll of his eyes, you could clearly tell that he was amused. “Night, _____. Just don’t fall in love with me, alright? I don’t date fans.”

“Sweet dreams, neighbor. And don’t worry, I don’t plan on falling in love with you any time soon.”

Yet somewhere along the way, you found yourself falling in love.

He’d been your neighbor for a few months now, and the two of you practically became attached to the hip. You later learned that when he first moved into the city, he didn’t expect to make any sort of friends. Yoongi only planned on making music 24/7—hoping to kickstart his music career after some time. Apparently, before he moved into your building, he was working in some financial firm crunching numbers for eight hours straight. He was engaged too. But, when he revealed to his fiancée (now ex fiancée) that he wanted to quit his job and pursue music… she didn’t take it very well. So, they later separated and Yoongi searched for a new beginning in a city miles away from everything he once knew.

Unlike his ex, you strove to become extremely supportive of his music career. In fact, he was supportive of your teaching career too. On Wednesday mornings, he would always volunteer to come into your classroom and sing a few songs in front of your kindergarten students during circle time. He’d also stay to read a book or two before heading out to get lunch—only to wait for your break so that the two of you could eat together. Then on Friday nights, you would be standing front row in his shows. While his venues were mostly at nightclubs and the city nightlife wasn’t your thing, you were still there—singing along to his music and at times making the best attempt to rap as fast as he could. You’d wait for him by the back after his set, and it became a tradition to head to the nearest convenience store to fill up on ramen, alcohol, and shrimp chips (a staple for every night in).

It was hard not to fall for someone like Yoongi. There was just something about him that you absolutely adored, and even though you were sure he didn’t reciprocate those feelings in that way, you were okay with that. Having him be a part of your life was enough.

The two of you always joked about it though, how you were each other’s soulmates. How one would always complete the other; plus, sharing this sort of mutual understanding that doesn’t need to be talked about. You’ve never felt this strong pull with anyone else, and he’s admitted it too.

“There she is,” you heard the familiar voice coo from afar. Looking up from your phone, you spotted Yoongi leaving through the back door of the nightclub, approaching as if you were the one who just finished performing a show. Still, the grin on your lips couldn’t stop spreading at the sight of him.

“Oh my god, Suga! I’m like, your biggest fan! Can I get a picture?!” you shrieked, attempting to put on your best impression of the teenage girls who’ve been approaching him often lately. Even with all of his shows taking place in venues that only allowed people over the age of twenty, he still harbored a lot of young fans. While they weren’t allowed to watch his shows, they showed their support in other ways.

He rolled his eyes but attained the beaming smile swept across his lips. In all the time you’ve known him, you’ve discovered that Yoongi was never really one to crack a smile with others. But with you? You were the only exception to that.

His skin was glistening from the beads of sweat that trickled down after performing, and you took it upon yourself to gingerly sweep his coffee-colored bangs off of his face with your fingers. He was staring at you at this point, and you were desperately trying to keep it together without melting into putty in his hands. Because one thing’s for sure—the way he looks at you will always be your weakness. “What?” you challenged, now using a tissue you pulled from your bag to lightly dab his facial features. Your voice was faint, quiet enough to still be heard with your faces only inches apart.

“Nothing,” he replied lowly, stifling a small laugh. “I like looking at you.”

After another successful trip to the convenience store, you and Yoongi went back home to change into more comfortable clothes before meeting back up at the rooftop. It was nearing midnight, so the city was getting ready to turn in. The buildings gradually began to turn their lights off, which only made the stars littered across the night sky shine brighter than before. The rooftop was well-lit thanks to the string lights and candles around you, and even with the cool December breeze sweeping through, you were comfy underneath the plush blanket that wrapped around both of your bodies.

It was nights like this that you held special to your heart.

“Be honest with me,” Yoongi brought up amidst the comfortable silence. He placed the plastic bowl that held his ramen onto the coffee table in front of him before looking back at you. “Do you think I made a mistake? You know… leaving everything in my old life behind to do this? I mean—don’t get me wrong, I love it, I just… feel guilty. There’s always this voice in the back of my head that’s yelling at me for being selfish. My life was fine before, you know? I screwed it all up.”

You blinked slowly. It wasn’t the first time he’d shared his doubts with you, but it was always concerning how much it lingered in his head. At the end of the day, what’s done is done. No matter how many times he feels guilty, he shouldn’t look back anymore. This was his life now.

But how could you put it into words that’ll make him understand?

Finishing your food after setting your own bowl down, you took a moment to process everything and think of an answer. You knew very well that you weren’t some licensed therapist capable of giving credited advice, but you were fairly decent at providing comfort to others. “I don’t think so,” you finally replied, keeping your gaze on him steady. “You have to think about it this way, Yoongi. Yeah you were fine before, but… were you happy? Like, actually happy? And are you happy now?”

Those questions left Yoongi speechless. He really took the time to ponder on it, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. You tried to read his expressions, though, it wasn’t any help. It was quiet. Aside from the soft music playing in the background from the small bluetooth speaker that sat on the ledge, the silence that simmered between you two was piercing.

“I guess I wasn’t,” he breathed after a short sigh. “I was miserable.”

You felt his pain at that moment. There was something about the way he said it—how it made your heart wrench and your stomach churn. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay, it’s not your fault,” he waved it off, and you could sense the slight frustration in his tone. “If anything, meeting you made everything better.”

Biting back a smile, you instantly began to feel the heat rush through your cheeks. Your chest was pounding and your head was dizzy—shocked at how those little words could make your head go haywire. Still, you did your very best in keeping it collected. “Yeah?” you asked, sounding hopeful. Your glistening eyes met his, shifting your body a bit to fully face his.

“Yeah,” he reassured, unable to keep his smile any longer.

That very night was the night Yoongi decided to be bold. He brought a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind ear, only to lessen the distance between both of your faces. Even with your head spinning, you were still able to admire his soft features—the way his eyes literally sparkled when they looked at you, the way his rosy cheeks from the alcohol became more prominent. “You make me so fucking happy, ____. I thought you were just going to be another face I’d see from time to time when we met that night, but… you became more than that. I think I’m in love with you.”

And at that moment, it felt like time had stopped between you two. That nothing else mattered in the world aside from the fact that Min Yoongi—the neighbor you fell in love with—felt the same way.

“Be honest with me,” you decided to match his boldness by using a free hand to gently sweep his bangs off of his face. They were trembling a little, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes kept its focus on you and you only, feigning that same look that always makes you crumble.

He nodded, egging you to continue.

“Would you kiss me right now if I asked?”

Your lips were immediately met by his. It was sweet, and you could taste the hint of ramen broth and beer that lingered. The way his lips felt matched the way that he kissed you—soft, and tender. His hands found their way on your hips beneath the blanket your bodies shared, while yours rested perfectly on both sides of his jaw. With chests pressed against one another, you noticed that his heart was pounding too. And that only made you smile in between kisses.

At this point, neither one of you wanted to pull apart. Instead, your lips were roughly colliding in full-force, the intensity of the kiss amplifying. Yoongi’s hand began to trail down further until his fingers reached the inside of your thigh. Your breath hitched at his touch, desperately wanting him to explore further. But he chose to stop. “Yoongi,” you said his name in an unintentional soft whine after pulling away, practically begging for more friction.

Rational thinking was thrown out of the window tonight. You were riding from the high of Yoongi practically confessing his love for you, and all you wanted to do was have him. All of him.

“Hm?” he let out a quiet hum, fingers dancing closer and closer. His lips continued to wander across your skin, peppering kisses all over your neck and down to your exposed collar bones.

“Touch me,” you whispered into his ear. “Please.”

He didn’t waste another moment. He reached over to slide your pajama pants down in one quick pull and you assisted in kicking them out of the way. It gave him leeway to use the pads of his fingers to gently massage your clothed core, pressing just enough to provide pressure that had your lips leaving quiet moans that were thankfully, still masked by the music in the background. “Take this off and spread your legs for me,” he demanded lowly.

You’ve never seen this side of him before—but god he knew how to turn you on. If the blanket wasn’t over you right now, you would’ve felt exposed from the wetness pooling in between your thighs. But you did as you were told without any hesitation, sliding your panties down until they hugged your ankles, kicking them off entirely, leaving your bottom half bare beneath the warm fabric.

Yoongi took it as a cue to slide his fingers between your legs and prying them apart. You’ve never felt more vulnerable than at this moment. Even with the blanket hovered securely over your body, the way his gaze was on you was more than enough to make you feel like he owned you tonight. And you were okay with that. Slender fingers dipping into your dripping core, he used it as a way to collect the overflown juices before using it as a lubricant to massage your throbbing clit. His pace was agonizingly slow, but it still made your back arch off of the couch in pleasure.

The sight only made him mumble profanities under his breath.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself, ____?” he asked, dark eyes still locked on yours. He was still close, and you could feel his hot breath tickle your skin at each word. Slowly inserting two fingers on the get-go, your eyes impulsively roll back at the way they stretched your walls in the best possible way. His pace soon began to quicken without a fair warning, and you couldn’t help but whimper each time they pump into your g-spot. “Do you think about me fucking you like this?”

Your headspace was such a euphoric state that you couldn’t even find the right words for an answer. Rather than saying anything, you only nodded feverishly to let him know that he was doing everything right. The thought of having Yoongi’s fingers fucking tirelessly inside you was more than enough to rile you up and near your orgasm.

You’ve thought about it multiple times before. Every time you see him on that stage, swiping the sweat off of the back of his neck that left his fingers glistening, your mind begins to wander into dangerous places. It was hot—there’s no denying it.

You were close. But as soon as you were about to finish, the momentum was put to a stop, because you took it upon yourself to remove his fingers out of you on your own. Confused, Yoongi began to look at you as if he’s done something wrong, though, you hoped he’d get the hint the minute your hand found its way to palm his hardening erection through his sweatpants. “I wanna finish inside you,” you breathed, planting kisses that began from his neck and worked its way up to his lips.

“Then do it.”

Using both of your hands to pull both his sweatpants and boxer briefs down, allowing for his length to spring free. After he successfully kicked them both off of him, you stood from your previous position to straddle him, putting both hands on his shoulders to support yourself. His eyes carefully watched you as you slowly unzipped your hoodie, revealing that you wore nothing underneath.

He was mesmerized. And it was all for him—with the blanket still covering both of your bare bodies, he was the only one who could see you like this. No one else.

A devilish grin laced your lips at the sight of him speechless as you helped remove his sweatshirt. Slowly but surely, you lifted yourself up slightly to line Yoongi’s erection up before sinking in.

The two of you both let out a satisfied moan in unison, and Yoongi’s hands began to wander around your warm body—hands stopping at your ass to dig his fingers into your flesh as you rocked your hips at a steady pace. His mouth on the other hand was busy with your breasts, tongue flicking against each hardened nipple even as they bounced.

“Do you think about me fucking you like this?” you mimicked him in a playful yet sultry tone, using both of your hands to lift his face up in order to make full-on eye contact with you while you continued to ride him. He threw his head back in response, all while still keeping his gaze on yours. From his expression alone, you could tell that he was wrapped around your fingers.

But instead of giving you any sort of real answer, he rolled his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss, satisfying his craving for your lips once more. Before you knew it, your positions had switched, and you were fully lying down on the couch with Yoongi on top of you. The blanket had been partially discarded since Yoongi couldn’t care less about it, only draping over the bottom half of your bodies. You let out a small shiver as you felt the cold air, but it all seemed to disappear the minute you felt his length fill you up once more.

“You’re my weakness, _____,” you heard him say softly once your foreheads touch, his lips brushing against yours. His thrusts were at a slow pace, but it was still enough to hit your g-spot each time. “After meeting you that night, I knew I was fucked.”

It was unfair—how Min Yoongi knew how to tug your heartstrings in any situation (literally). There was nothing more intimate than this, though. The two of you were left vulnerable, and he found the perfect moment to say it. “I feel the same way,” you whispered, hands lifted up to cup his flushed cheeks. “Because I think I’m in love with you too.”

Yoongi began to pick up the pace upon hearing you confess. With one hand gripping tightly on the couch’s arm rest until his knuckles turn white, another snuck in between your bodies to have his thumb rub your clit, matching the intensity of his thrusts.

“Yoongi, I’m so close—” you whined quietly into his ear while he continued to fuck you senselessly, walls fluttering and tightening around him. There was that familiar feeling building up inside you, and you were so close to coming undone. Yoongi continued to snap his hips into yours while tracing quick circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves until you felt yourself let go. Your body jolted as you cried in please, and even then, he didn’t stop. He milked every last drop of the wave of pleasure he’d given you that left you out of breath. There was this buzzing that refused to leave your ears, and your eyes were watery from the overwhelming feeling.

Smirking in satisfaction, each thrust became more sloppy and erratic. It didn’t take long for him to follow suit, pulling out to finish on you. He groaned as you felt his warmth spill across your frame, panting from the intense session the two of you just shared.

“Damn, I made a mess,” he said playfully after reaching out for a napkin on the table to wipe your body clean, which earned a soft slap on his end. He only laughed once you were able to sit back up, leaning in to steal a quick kiss on the lips.

Once the two of you were finished getting dressed and cleaning the area, you both decided to stay on the rooftop for a few more minutes. Both of you were nuzzled against one another for warmth, your back pressed against Yoongi while he had an arm wrapped around you. SUGAR by BROCKHAMPTON was playing in the background, and Yoongi was singing softly to the chorus while you quietly admired his small performance.  

“Remember when you said you wouldn’t fall in love with a fan?” the words left your lips with a smile, recalling the memory like it was only yesterday. At this point, you were just there to tease him. “Tsk. Can’t believe I’m into a hypocrite.”

He laughed, nose digging into your hair. “You’re different. I’d do anything for you.”

↳   PRESENT DAY.

“Ready to go, babe?”

You’ve spent the past hour sitting on the rooftop’s sofa in solitude, admiring the blue sky in front of you. You were quietly humming to Suga’s Trivia 轉: Seesaw to yourself as you watched the view, until you were interrupted by the familiar voice entering your ears. The smile on your face widened as he approached you, offering a hand to help you up.

It’d been months since you’ve last heard from Yoongi. He was off doing bigger, better things—and you were proud of him for that. After spending hours and hours of going back and forth with one another one night, the two of you had the realization that the long-term goals you both had didn’t align. He was asked to commit to a world tour for the next year and a half, and you wanted to stay where your life was. Here.

Yoongi was more than willing to drop his entire career to be with you, but you knew it wasn’t right. So, no matter how painful it felt, you had to let go. He’s made so many sacrifices to get to where he was, and you refused to be the reason why he couldn’t live his dreams. No matter how much you both loved each other.

Deep inside, you’ve always hoped that he’d come home. That one night you’d find him sitting in that very same spot on the rooftop, legs sprawled apart, absentmindedly staring at the night sky. But it’s been months. No calls, no texts—only a meek dial tone at the end of the line.

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Min Yoongi was simply the right person you’ve met at the wrong time.

“Yeah,” you answered Jungkook softly before taking his hand to lift yourself from the seat. A quiet giggle left your lips once your boyfriend pulled you closer to pepper kisses on your cheek, and the two of you began your walk out of the building. “Let’s get out of here.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

we’re too stupid ~ the vlog squad

word count: 1885

request?: yes!

@iawaythrown​  “May I ask for a vlog squad x popular youtube reader

The reader has their own very popular youtube channel/podcast like a scientific/space podcast. (Like a Vsauce\GameTheory channel) The vlog squad and the reader fan base (somehow) always wants them to collab. One day David says "It won't happen because the reader probably doesn't like us." This ends up getting everyone on the podcast.”

description: when their favorite youtubers show interest in being on their podcast, they jump at the chance to invite them on

pairing: vlog squad x gender neutral!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“You know what I’ve been listening to a lot lately?” Scotty asked David on the newest vlog David had uploaded. You were watching the vlog on your TV while you prepared to upload the newest episode of your podcast. You had a drink half raised to your lips when Scott responded to his own question, “The Spaced Out podcast.”

Your drink nearly slipped from your hand at the mention of your podcast. You were sure you had imagined it, so you went back and repeated the part just to be sure. The name of your podcast slipped from Scott’s lips again and you had to pause the video to scream with excitement.

When you placed the video again, David spoke next. “Oh wait, is that the one about space and shit? You played it for me before.”

“Yeah! Man, it’s so interesting. I could honestly listen to the host talk about space all day,” Scott said.

“He keeps bringing it up during the Scottcast, too,” Jeff commented. “I’m starting to think he’d rather co-host that podcast instead of our own.”

“Man, I’d love to be on that podcast!”

You could hardly contain your excitement. Your favorite YouTubers knew who you were?! They knew your podcast?! You had to be dreaming, you were sure of it.

“There’s no way they’d ever have us on the podcast,” David was saying. “We’re too stupid and immature, they’d probably hate us.”

“Speak for yourself!” Zane, dressed in some weird costume for a bit, called, causing the boys to laugh together.

This gave you an idea. You put your laptop aside and opened Instagram on your phone. You searched the name “David Dobrik” and went to his DMs.

~~~~~~

A week later, your podcasting room was filled with 11 extra people than there normally was. The room was only small with a handful of seats, so a lot of your guests were squeezed in together or basically sat on one another. No one seemed to mind, though. Every single person in the room was super excited to be there.

“What’s up all my space geeks? Welcome back to another episode of The Spaced Out podcast, the podcast where we discuss super nerdy space things,” you started with your usual intro. “Today’s episode is a little different, though, as today I am joined by not one, not two, not even three, but eleven special guests. You heard me right, eleven. Special guests, wanna say hi?”

All eleven of your guests rang out with a chorus of, “Hello!”s at the one time, making it all come out as just a shouting mess. You laughed and waved a hand to silence them.

“In case you had trouble understanding what they were saying,” you said, “my guests today are David, Scotty, Toddy, Zane, Erin, Carly, Natalie, Heath, Mariah, Corinna, and Jeff, better known as a large chunk of YouTube’s biggest vlogging group: The Vlog Squad!”

The Vlog Squad cheered at their introduction as you just clapped your hands.

“Can I just say,” Heath said once the noise started to die down, “that I am impressed with how fast you said our names and how easy it was. You didn’t even stutter once.”

“I’ll be honest, when David told me exactly who was coming I prepared myself for this,” you admitted. “I’ve never had so many guests on the show before. Actually, I don’t know if I’ve ever had any guests at all. I don’t really know anyone in my real life that’s as interested in space and science as I am.”

“To be fair, none of us are, either,” Jeff joked, causing the room to laugh.

“Yeah, you picked the wrong people to be on your podcast,” Corinna added.

“You don’t have to have any sort of interest to be on the podcast, really. As long as you don’t mind me talking about my nerdy space obsession every now and then anyone is welcome on the podcast.”

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure everyone else could hear it. You were shocked that you were managing to remain so calm in that moment. Your favorite YouTubers were sitting right there in front of you, being guests on your podcast, and somehow you were acting as though they were just friends that you had convinced to come on the podcast.

“Is there any cool space facts you can share with us to get the ball rolling?” David asked.

“Dude, I’ve made over 300 episodes of this podcast that is literally all about space, you gotta narrow down your parameters there,” you told him.

“What’s your favorite space fact then?”

You thought for a moment, going through all the little facts you had in your mind. There was so much you could share with them that you really didn’t know where to start.

“Okay,” you said finally, “I have one. I think David will like this cause we all know he’s made of money: there is a planet that is called 55 Cancri e. It is over twice the size of Earth and it is potentially made of diamonds.”

They all gasped and made comments of astonishment at the same time at this.

“Like, literally made of diamonds?” Corinna asked.

“It’s hard to know for sure. It’s roughly 41 lightyears away so it’s not exactly easy to reach, but they think it’s made of graphite and diamonds,” you explained. “My favorite fact, and one that’s a little scary, is that it’s actually completely silent in space. Like not a single sound, because atmospheres around planets are what contain the soundwaves to make noise.”

“I told you,” David said, turning to face Scott. “We’re too stupid to be on this podcast.”

You all laughed together. “You guys aren’t stupid! I was just fascinated with space as a child and my parents let me feed into that fascination. They always bought me books about space and brought me to visit certain space centers. I was that kid that always said she was gonna grow up and be an astronaut. Instead, I just talk about them on the internet.”

Everything was going so well. You were getting to know your guests and they kept urging you to tell them facts and stories about space. You knew a lot of what you were telling them you had talked about on the podcast before, so devoted listeners probably wouldn’t be too interested in a lot of what you had to say in that episode, but you didn’t mind too much. You just loved to see the looks of astonishment on everyone’s faces as you continued to tell them fact after fact.

When you came to a segment you did in the podcast in which you would read messages from fans, you decided to your guests choose which messages to read and respond to. David took the tablet you used for this first and read through the thousands of messages you received between uploading your most recent episode and recording the current one.

“Are you going to talk about the new 4K pictures of Mars?” he read.

“Oh my God, yes!” you responded. “That will be next episode. I haven’t looked at them all yet because I wanna have a live reaction to them, but I did see one picture and it looks absolutely stunning.”

“It blew my mind how it just looked like a desert here,” Carly commented. “Mars is a lot more like Earth than we think. Sucks that we’ll never be able to live there or anything.”

“I don’t think we’ll never be able to live there, but I don’t think it’ll happen in our lifetimes,” you commented. “But that’s a whole other thing, let’s move on from that.”

“What has been your favorite space related story of the past year?” Natalie read the message she had picked.

“I don’t know if it’s my favorite, but it’s definitely one that I was very interested in reading: a star just vanished in 2020,” you responded. “Apparently that’s something that can just happen, stars can just suddenly disappear and no one knows where they went. This star from the Kinman dwarf galaxy that shined almost brighter than the sun just vanished between 2011 and 2020, and they have no explanation for it. That story stuck with me the most cause I just find it funny that a star that bright just vanished and no one can figure out where it went.”

They continued reading you messages for a while before passing your tablet back to you.

“While I wish I could sit here with you guys and talk about space and your vlogs forever, unfortunately we are running out of time,” you said. “I want to thank the Vlog Squad again for joining me on this episode, and I hope I didn’t bore you guys to death with my stories and facts.”

“Not at all!” David spoke. “I can’t speak for everyone, but I really enjoyed myself. Listening to you talk was really interesting.”

The rest of the group agreed. You tried not to blush from all their kind words.

“I always wanna thank our sponsors again. As always I appreciate them supporting my show, and of course I want you guys, the listeners. Your constant support for the show means so much to me. If you wanna hear more fun facts about space that you’ll never use in live, follow me on my social media. If you’re not already following the podcast, follow the podcast! I upload episodes every Friday, and if you want to be involved in the show be sure to send me your space related messages and maybe I’ll read them out on the next episode. Have a good weekend, little space geek out!”

You ended the recording and the group almost cheered for you. You smiled and stood to thank them again for coming on the show. You were shocked when Corinna pulled you into a hug, which caused the rest of the group to hug you one by one.

“This was the most fun I think I’ve ever had,” Erin commented. “Would you be open to having more guests on the show? I’d love to come back and to just listen to you talk for a full hour.”

The rest of the squad agreed. You really didn’t think you could feel any more excited or on cloud nine, but they kept surprising you.

“I would definitely be open to having guests again,” you replied. “If you guys ever wanna be on the show again, just send me a DM. I’d love to have you!”

“We’d love to have you on the vlogs sometime, too, if you’d be open for that,” David told you.

There they go again, making you feel like you had passed cloud nine and now were on a completely different planet with excitement.

“Y-Yeah!” you managed. “Of course, I’d love that!”

After some more small talk, you showed the group out and thanked them again for coming. Once you were sure they were gone and unable to see you, you began jumping for joy and exclaiming with excitement. You couldn’t believe it! You had just hosted a podcast with your favorite people, and they asked you to join them for filming sometime?!

“This is the best day of my life!”

[yourdeepestfathoms]

with this unruly heart of mine

in which we all wish our parents reacted the same way as Alcina does when one of her daughters comes out to her

title is from Unruly Hearts from The Prom because it fit

-----------------------------

MERCUTIO

If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. Give me a case to put my visage in. A visor for a visor. What care I What curious eye doth cote deformities? Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.

Alcina read that line over and over again, but she still had no idea what the hell any of it really meant. She sighed and leaned back into the cushions of her seat. If she kept getting caught up on the literary meaning of every other paragraph then she would never finish this damned book.

She picked up the teacup sitting on the stand beside her chair and took a long sip. The tea was of sweet cinnamon on her tongue. It left a much better taste in her mouth than the rather gross relationship between Romeo and Juliet in this book. If the short amount of time the two knew each other wasn’t bad enough, the age gap made her teeth bare and nose wrinkle in disgust. What the hell was this William Shakespeare guy thinking when he wrote this?

The soft sound of bare feet padding against hardwood brought her back to the surface of complete awareness, her focus shifting away from the book and to the late-night arrival watching nearby.

A certain fly child stood, arm on the doorway. Her hair was shaggy from seemingly just waking up--or maybe she hadn’t slept at all in the first place. Unruly blonde locks were sticking up in various directions around her head, framing her face like an adolescent lion’s mane. The nightgown she wore was a size too big and drowning her thin frame.

The light from the fireplace made her golden-amber eyes look hollow.

“Mother?”

“Yes, dear?”

“May I sit with you?”

“Of course.”

Slower than she’d ever seen her move before, Bela inched her way onto the cushioned chair beside Alcina’s. She pulled her knees up her chest, bare toes poking over the edge of the seat, and Alcina regarded them with a scrunch of her nose.

“What have I told you about going around the castle barefoot?” Alcina chided gently.

Bela didn’t look away from the flickering fire in the fireplace. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

Something was bothering her.

Bela was a rather fickle little thing. Some days, she wanted to tell Alcina everything, every little fact of the new knowledge she had obtained from her books, all the small details of her latest stories or ideas. Other days, she put up walls and gave vague answers to questions prodded into her sensitive skin, curling into herself like a frightened snail afraid of being interrogated. This seemed to be something of the latter, and Alcina made a mental note to tread lightly to avoid upsetting her daughter.

“I don’t understand this at all,” Alcina said, waggling the book in her hands, trying to make small talk with her distressed child. She didn’t want to pry and further put Bela on edge more than she clearly was, but she couldn’t not do something about her bitter mood. What kind of mother would she be if she didn’t at least attempt to help with her kids’ problems?

“I can hardly make heads or tails of anything they’re saying,” she continued, hoping she wasn’t laying it on too thick.

Bela raised her head from her knees slightly. “What book is it?”

“Romeo and Juliet.”

There was a morbid snort. “How coincidental…”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Bela shook her head. “Lemme see. What part are you at?”

Alina pointed out the current line she had reread at least five times over without being able to discern the Shakespearean into modern-day language. Bela, however, looked it over once, scanned the other pieces of dialogue for context, nodded, then explained, “In this scene, Romeo, Mercutio, and Benvolio are sneaking into a party thrown by the Capulets by wearing masks to disguise themselves. Romeo is upset over Juliet and says he isn’t going to dance. Mercutio then teases him over this and turns all of Romeo’s words into gratuitous sexual metaphors to poke fun at him. Mercutio ends up going on this whole rant about Queen Mab of the fairies, who visits people in their dreams until Romeo and Benvolio cut in to get things back on track. Romeo also kinda foreshadows the entire play at one point. See? Right here: ‘I fear too early, for my mind misgives Some consequence yet hanging in the stars Shall bitterly begin his fearful date With this night’s revels, and expire the term Of a despisèd life closed in my breast By some vile forfeit of untimely death.’ I do believe that is hinting at his eventual fate of death.”

Alcina blinked at her for a moment before smiling fondly and rubbing her head. “Such a smart girl,” she cooed. “I could have never gotten that out of this .”

Bela smiled, but then it quickly disappeared, and she leaned back into her chair, curling up and watching the fire once again.

Now Alcina was really concerned. Bela was never one to let go of praise and affection so easily. Usually, she savored it a bit longer before moving onto something else, but here she was, brushing off Alcina’s words and touch as though they were nothing.

Something was very, very wrong.

However, before she had the chance to take the risk and attempt to ask questions, Bela spoke up.

“Have you ever been in love, Mother?”

Surprised, Alcina asked, “And what brought this up?”

Bela shrugged, not making eye contact. She kept looking at the fire as though she wanted to throw herself into it. Her voice was small, so small. “Just curious.”

“I see,” Alcina nodded. She looked up, thinking for a moment as she wracked her brain of the memories of her past life. “I have been in love before. Many times, actually.”

Bela gave her a curious look, finally pulling her gaze from the flames. “Really?”

“Indeed,” Alcina confirmed. “Though, I do believe that just comes with growing up. You gain lovers, you lose lovers. Some were real, some were fantasies I made up. Some lasted a few days, some a few months, some a few years.” She took a sip of her tea again. “None of them really mattered in the end, though. Clearly.” Another sip.

Bela nodded faintly. “Okay.”

“Have you ever been in love?” Alcina decided to ask.

Strangely, Bela went rigid. Her claws clenched around the sides of her calves as she stared forward with pupils that were constricted into pinpricks. Sweat beaded along the golden crown of her head.

“I-I-- umm…”

Alcina furrowed her eyebrows in worry. She closed Romeo and Juliet with a bookmark to mark her page, then set a hand on Bela’s back. Her daughter was trembling.

“Bela?” Alcina said, keeping her voice soothing and low to avoid setting off the poor girl even further. “Is everything alright? You don’t look well.”

“Yes, yes,” Bela answered her, much too quickly for it to be convincing. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Before Alcina could prod further, Bela shot up to her feet. She began to chew on one of her claws, flexing her free hand at her side in visible agitation. Pieces of her skin broke off into flies and buzzed around her head madly. She seemed to be dissociating in panic.

“Bela,” Alcina rose to her feet slowly, not wanting to accidentally frighten her daughter. “Bela, what’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bela said, even when she was so obviously far from fine. Her chest was beginning to heave.

“Darling,” Alcina said, and that seemed to get Bela to crack a bit.

With a tight whimper, Bela shook her head. “Hard-- hard to breathe--”

Instantly, Alcina loosely took Bela by the arms and lowered her to the ground. In the firelight, she could see the pallor of her daughter’s increasing panic as it morphed into a complete attack on her anxiety. Bela grabbed her wrists with her claws dug in for desperate grounding, and Alcina let her, even when it stung her skin. Her comfort was far from important in that moment.

“Alright, honey,” Alcina said. “We’re going to do the thing we’ve been practicing, alright? Do you think you can do it?”

Wordlessly, Bela nodded.

“That’s my strong girl,” Alcina said. “Alright, give me five things you can see.”

“Y-you,” Bela stammered. The words shook when they left her lips. “Your hair’s kinda bushy.”

Alcina rolled her eyes in a good-natured way. “Thank you for pointing that out, Bela.”

Bela’s fight instantly gave in at that and she hunched her shoulders in, looking ashamed. Quick to correct herself, Alcina lifted her chin so they could make eye contact.

“I was only teasing you, honey,” Alcina said. “Keep going.”

Bela nodded. “The fire; it’s really pretty. Your-- your, umm, chair; it looks soft. The book; not the best of Shakespeare’s works. And, ah-- the teacup; it has doves on it.”

“Very good,” Alcina praised. “Four things you can feel.”

“The fire’s-- the fire’s warmth. My heart in-- my heart in my throat. The floor under me; I should have worn socks.”

“I told you,” Alcina cut in playfully.

Bela swallowed thickly. “A-and, umm-- and my anxiety. It’s like a Lycan in my chest.”

Alcina frowned at that but quickly wiped it off her face for now. She stroked Bela’s cheek, gaining a spark of hope when Bela leaned into her hand.

“I feel you, too,” Bela said.

“You only needed to name five, little moth,” Alcina said, bopping her on the nose.

Bela just shrugged.

“But you’re doing so well. Can you give me three things you can hear?”

“My heartbeat in my ears; it sounds like thunder. I don’t like thunder. Umm-- the fire crackling; I like that. And-- and a raven outside. I think that’s Merlin. His cawing is kinda raspier than the other birds’. I think he may have hurt his throat at some point.”

A small smile grew onto Alcina’s lips. She continued caressing Bela’s cheek as she talked to her. “Now two things you can smell.”

“Fear,” Bela said almost instantly. Her nose twitched. “I smell fear.”

Alcina could smell it, too. The thickened dread wafting off of her shaken daughter was acrid, bitter, and unsettling.

“Umm--” Bela’s claws fidgeted, clicking against each other softly. “And your tea. Smells like cinnamon. Cinnamon makes me sneeze.”

“One more. One thing you can taste.”

“Fear.”

“Fear?” Alcina echoed, one eyebrow raised. “Again?”

“Yes.”

“What does fear taste like?”

Bela stared down at her claws, which she splayed open before herself. “It-- it has a slightly dull metallic taste that’s mixed with urea, I think. Sometimes it tastes like popping a bloody, pus-filled blister in your mouth and squeezing every drop out with your teeth and savoring it on your tongue. Sucking the wound clean and swallowing it down.” She clenched her fists. “But it doesn’t get clean. It doesn’t dry out. The blister just keeps oozing and oozing until all the discharge comes pouring out of your mouth, but even then it doesn’t stop. Because you can’t force it all down. You can’t just swallow and think it’s done. That’s not how anxiety works. It keeps coming, even when you thought it was gone, and it leaves behind this awful flavor of bitter bile. It’s acidic, too, you know? It melts your chest and stomach and makes you feel like you’re sinking in your own skin.” She looked up at Alcina, and her eyes were shiny and blank. “I taste fear, Mother.”

There was silence between them for just a moment. Bela wasn’t looking at Alcina anymore; she seemed to think the floor was very interesting at that moment. Alcina was still considering her daughter’s dark words, replaying them over and over again until the subtle taste of sour gall spread across her tongue. She swallowed it down and winced when it drooled over the back of her throat like rancid molasses.

“You did it, baby,” Alcina finally said, smiling despite her worry, despite the flavor of fear in her mouth. “I’m so proud of you.”

Bela just nodded. Though she was no longer having a panic attack, she didn’t seem any less upset. Alcina considered letting it go, especially after just having calmed her down, but if something was bothering her daughter so much that she couldn’t breathe when she thought about it too hard, she knew she couldn’t just leave it be. It could escalate into something much, much worse, and she knew damn well that Bela was willing to go to such extremes, if her explanation of fear and the way she kept looking at the fire wasn’t enough proof of that.

“Now,” Alcina saw Bela tense, but she plunged anyway. “I need you to tell me what’s bothering you so I can help.”

Bela shook her head with a strangled whimper.  “I can’t tell you.”

“Bela, I’m your mother. You can tell me anything.”

“You’ll hate me.”

“I won’t hate you.”

Bela was quiet. Then, slowly, she dragged her gaze up to Alcina. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise, Bela. I would never hate you.”

Bela nodded. “Okay.” Her claws clenched into fists against the floorboards, knuckles shaking and turning white. She took several deep breaths before forcing out, “I-- I don’t-- I don’t like people like that. Like how I’m supposed to.”

Silence.

Tears flowed freely from Bela’s eyes and she choked on a sob. Her head hung in shame as her entire body quaked. The poor girl looked terrified, and the sight hit Alcina right in the heart--though she didn’t quite get it.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said.

“No, no-- you don’t understand,” Bela’s breath was coming out thin and raspy again. She sat up straight, claws now knotted in her nightgown, tensing and pulling. “I don’t-- I don’t like people, Mama. The way other people do. The way everyone does. I’ve-- I’ve tried, but--” She cut herself off with a whimper, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“What do you mean?” Alcina asked. Trying to discern Bela’s vague words was like trying to discern Shakespearean. “Do you think you can explain it to me, hun? Like you did with the book and the fear. I want to help you.”

Bela sniffled, then nodded. “I-- I, umm-- I don’t feel anything towards people. Like-- like that. Romantically. And sexually.”

Finally, it dawned on Alcina.

“When I read those cheesy romance books Daniela likes, I don’t get the characters’ feelings at all. Just the thought of being in a relationship like that makes me so uncomfortable and I don’t know why, and that scares me, Mama.” Bela continued, her anguish oozing into every word she spoke. “I don’t like the thought of being tied down to someone like that, but it still feels like something has been stolen from me. That promise of a future with true love and marriage and a fairy tale ending that Daniela always talks about is gone, even though I still want it. Or, at least, I think I want it. I don’t know what I want.” She sniffled, looking miserable. “It’s the same for sexual stuff. When I come to scenes with sex in them in books, it makes my skin feel all weird, like severed hands are crawling all over my body. I get embarrassed and awkward and uneasy, and I don’t understand that, either. It just makes me feel so sick to my stomach.”

There was a pause. Bela was taking several shallow breaths and digging her claws into her legs, so Alcina reached out and took one of her hands, stroking her knuckles with her thumbs.

“Breathe, baby,” Alcina murmured. “Breathe.”

“I’ve-- I’ve tried to force myself to be like everyone else before,” Bela said unexpectedly.

Taken aback, Alcina said, “What?”

Bela swallowed thickly. “With-- with a maiden. You know how I am with them- too nice, too polite. I befriended one of them. We were kinda close. After a while, she started making moves on me. I knew what she wanted for so long, but I kept avoiding it because I was uncomfortable or scared. But then I had this revelation: maybe if I did this with her, I would finally feel something! I would be like everyone else! So I did. With her. And I didn’t like it.”

“Bela…”

“It hurt,” Bela whispered. “Like I was being scraped raw. Or my body was being turned inside out. I felt so sick. Humiliatingly, I started crying during it, but I don’t think she noticed. If she did, she didn’t stop. Not until she was finished. When she was, I threw up after she left. I was so sore.” Alcina squeezed her hand, and she sucked in a sharp breath, “But-- but I had to have liked it! I got, umm--” Her cheeks began to turn red with embarrassment, though Alcina didn’t blame her. Having to explain your sex life to your mother would be awkward for anyone. “I got…wet. And-- and that happens when you’re aroused! So-- so I do like sexual stuff!”

“Oh, sweetie…” Alcina sighed sadly.

Bela hunched her shoulders in. “R-right?”

“Honey, ‘getting wet’ doesn’t always mean you’re aroused,” Alcina said gently. “Simply viewing something erotic, like a naked woman, for example, could trigger this bodily response. It’s also a way for the vagina to lubricate itself to help dull the pain of penetration. You can be in a sexual situation and be wet, but not want to have sex. That’s completely normal and one hundred percent okay.” She lifted her hands to cup Bela’s cheeks. “Wetness is not an acceptable body language for consent. Who were you trying to convince: the maiden or yourself?”

Bela stared at her for a long moment, eyes wide and damp, breath hitched in the back of her throat. Then, she began shaking her head, pulling her hair, and weeping, “No, no-- I wanted it, I wanted it-- I know I did. I’m normal, I’m normal--”

It was truly heartbreaking to see her child in such a way. Bela seemed downright devastated over her own sexuality, to the point where she thought she was disgusting and unnatural for something that was actually completely normal.

Taking her daughter’s hands to keep her from hurting herself, Alcina went to say something, but Bela cut her off, getting to the words first.

“What’s wrong with me?!” Bela cried. “Why-- why am I like this, Mama? Am I broken? Am I heartless? I-- I love you and Cassandra and Daniela! I love Uncle Karl and Uncle Moreau and Auntie Donna and Angie and the Duke! I love reading and animals and writing, but-- but when I-- when I try to-- when it comes to sex and romance, I--” She finally gave up and sobbed.

“Oh, Bela,” Alcina said sadly. “Oh, my poor, sweet girl…” She pulled Bela into her lap and held her close, rocking her back and forth to help comfort her. Her fingers gently ran through Bela’s messy hair. “Shh, shh… You aren’t broken or heartless, sweetheart. This is an okay thing to feel.”

“You-- you don’t think I’m wrong?”

Alcina’s heart twisted at the way Bela looked up at her to say that, her eyes holding so much sadness and pain. She tucked her daughter’s head back under her chin and tightened the embrace.

“Absolutely not. Do you think you are?”

Bela answered in a strangled whimper. Alcina couldn’t help but wonder what put such a thought in her daughter’s brain--though, this was Bela she was dealing with. her anxiety was a wild, bestial thing that made her worry about the most obscene things.

“Did you really think this would change anything?” Alcina asked. “That I could ever possibly love you any less?”

Bela shrugged weakly.

“I-I just…”

That deep shame from before seemed to return and Bela’s head dipped. Alcina felt like she was going to try and pull away, so she tightened the embrace and used one hand to lift the girl’s chin.

“Hey, hey,” Alcina murmured, brushing away fresh tears on Bela’s cheeks. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this, sweetie. There’s nothing wrong with you, either. And if anyone says otherwise, tell me. I’ll eviscerate them.”

That got a tiny, watery giggle out of Bela.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Alcina went on. “Sex and romantic relationships… They aren’t for everyone. And that’s okay. It certainly doesn’t make you broken or heartless.”

“B-but--”

“Hun, look at me. Do I really look like someone who will judge you for being this way?”

Bela shrugged a little. Her little body seemed to have exhausted itself of all its efforts to argue.

Alcina rocked her gently, stroking her hair the way she knew she liked it. “How about I explain something to you, hm?”

Bela looked up at her blearily.

“Your love may not be arousing or romantic, but you want to know what it is like?”

“What?” Bela asked softly.

“Your love is warm and fuzzy, like being wrapped in a blanket during a blizzard. It’s safe and reassuring. Your love is security and shelter. Your love is noticing all the little details, like my bushy hair because it’s late at night or your Uncle Karl’s finger twitching because he’s nervous at the meetings with Mother Miranda but is trying to hide it or Cassandra’s leg bouncing because she’s full of pent up, restless energy. Your love is knowing what makes each of us tick and doing everything in your power to make us feel better when we’re upset. Your love is like the first flower showing up in the snow as winter melts away and the beginning flickers of a tender flame and the gentle fluttering of bird wings.” Alcina let out a soft laugh. “I’m nowhere near as good at details as you are, my darling. But, most importantly, your love is normal and natural and what makes you you. And you shouldn’t have to try and change that for anyone, no matter what.”

Bela stared up at her in silenced awe, tears trickling down her cheeks. Alcina squeezed her reassuringly.

“I want you to know that I’ll always support you, okay?” Alcina said. “I’m always going to be here for you.”

Bela nodded, hiccuping softly. “Thank you, Mama,” she whispered through tiny whimpers. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too, Bela,” Alcina said. She kissed the top of Bela’s head and purred to her softly. “My perfect, perfect girl.”

[saturatedboy]

Can I pretty please get some angst with Donna confessing her feelings for Reader but Reader declines, saying she doesn’t return her feelings and also has feelings for someone else (preferably Alcina or even Heisenberg)

Donna Beneviento x F!Reader

Warnings: angst, possessive language

Words: 4K

Requests: open

The outside had turned the mud ground into a blanket of white snow. How long has it truly been since you went outside? A week, maybe 3 weeks at tops. You missed the cold air, running through the forest playing 'hide and seek' with some unexpected visitors. Gosh you hate to admit it but you missed going to the family meetings at the church where Mother Miranda would talk about her plan.

You were just a journalist from Britain, looking for an adventure but somehow your so-called-holiday in Romania came to a sudden stop wen you were taken by Mother Miranda and had a Cadou paced in you. You had slight PTSD of the pain you had gone through but you were deemed to be an 'undesirable' vessel for something you were never given further information upon. So you were thrown to the side for Donna take take home and for Angie to have a 'playmate'. However, what Mother Miranda didn't suspect was that the Cadou had in fact affected all your sense so you could hear, see, taste, feel and smell much more than an average human. Of course when Donna found out about this, seeing you see perfectly in a pitch dark room during you and Angie's game, she grew here suspicions and kept it a secret.

It was only after she saw that, that she had decided to keep you inside away from any of the other Lords and Ladies. Donna had thought that if any of them found out about this that they would want you for their own personal reasons. So what was better than to keep you locked inside away from any of them. If only she saw the incoming feelings that she would gain just by being in close contact with a human for a long period of time.

Breathing hot breath onto the glass window, you drew a bunny sniffing a carrot with some strange looking trees in the background. Leaning back feeling proud of your drawing, you ran a hand through your hair and straightened it out. "Having fun?~" A voice came from behind. Twirling your head around you were face to face with none of than Angie the doll. She smiled and crooked her head to the side, admiring your small drawing, floating closer to see it clearer.

"I suppose, it's just boring staying in here all day without seeing anyone else." You sighed and looked down, letting your body rest with your back against the window sill and your legs dangling off the window sill. Angie looked at you then back at the bunny. She knew how badly you had wanted to go out, and she was more than sure it wasn't healthy for a human to stay inside for long periods of time. Tapping a finger against her mouth, she gasped in surprise and pulled against your hand, wrapping her small hands around three of your fingers. 

"Come come! hoho, I have an idea~" She sang out, pulling harshly on your fingers making you slightly wince. 

"Okay okay I'm coming, just keep your voice down. You're getting louder each day." You had jumped off the window ledge and landed perfectly on your feet. Using your other free hand, you had patted down your grey dress and straightened the veil on your head, only to be dragged into various rooms by Angie and her excited giggles, making the bottom of your dress become crinkled from the quick movements.

"If I remember correctly, if you can't go out then we'll just invite people to come see you hm?~" The doll had purred out once she dragged you into the office room on the first floor. Her voice held a slight tone of mischief making you think about backing away from her and going to go back to sit and wait for Lady Beneveinto to come back from the meeting. But if you did that, you may just loose a chance of seeing someone else other than Angie and the other puppets. You followed her reluctantly near where the large oak desk was with a black leather chair occupying the floor behind it. "Yes yes, that's it! Now just sit down there and take some of the paper from the filing cabinet underneath that desk! oooo this is going to be o fun!" 

Following the orders, you had taken hold of the seat and leaned down, searching for the filing cabinet under. Just in the far left there it was, 2 drawers with silver handles. Pulling the first one, there in the drawers was paper. Grabbing three pieces of paper, you pulled yourself back up and shut the drawer with your foot. Moving around a little on the chair, you got yourself comfy and waited for Angie's next words. "Wow, no wonder she really likes you! You're so obedient-anyway~"

"Wait Angie, who do you mean by 'she'?" Angie was swaying across the room, laughing softly as she heard your question. She had her back turned to face you so you couldn't see the growing smirk playing at her mouth. She wouldn't ruin who liked you because it wasn't her position to-However if she didn't confess to you sooner or later, Angie will have no choice but to in fact tell you herself. Just the thought of you both together had her internally screaming in merriment, the way her owner would stare at you when you were sleeping on the couch or even when Donna would create you clothing perfect to your size to see you wear them. Angie knew Donna was so much more merry with you around, her heart had practically been in love with you since you first ever came. Getting back on task, Angie flew over to the coffee table behind the green couch and grabbed a pen that was sitting above some recent sketches of Donnas plants. Grabbing it within her grasp, Angie had swiftly floated back to you and waved the pen in front of your face, your eyes following its movement.

"Now, use this to write letters to the other lords and Lady! We could throw a party~ OOO and you can meet everyone more! Great time to meet people right~" Liking the idea and forgetting about your past question, you had plucked the pen from Angie's grasp and started to write in formal writing to the other Lords and Lady.

"Angie," You asked her as you had finished writing to the other rulers. Angie hummed as she was sat with folded knees on the desk and was picking at some splinters in her wood arms. "What about Mother Miranda...shouldn't I be thrown into the death pile by now?"

"Ah ah," you placed the pen back down, passing the letters to Angie who had called some other puppets to walk in with envelopes in their arms. "You were suppose to die but it appears you survived the Cadou. Mother Miranda doesn't care much about the failed experiments, such as you, so she gave you to us~ Aren't we just a happy family~"

You stayed silent, watching the doll place the letters into the envelopes and signing the back of them, most likely applying the other Lords and lady addresses. She gave them back to the puppets and signalled them to go off, their feet scurrying away as quick as they could to deliver said letters. Clicking her gears about, the doll had stretched her arms up and stood on the table waving her hands about. "C'mon lets go get ready. I made a few adjustments to your writing and they should arrive hopefully around 6 sharp. Hoho lets get you spiced up!" As soon as she said those words, she flew out of the room in what you could only think to be to go to your room you were staying in. Sighing out, you brushed away any lose strands of hair and stood up. Smiling to yourself, you strode out of the office room and made your way to your room, lifting your grey dress up when it came to walking up the rickety stairs.

When you followed down the few hallways, you arrived to your destination. Turning the silver knob, you pushed over the heavy door to reveal Angie throwing clothing all over your room. "Angie could you at least try keep my room clean," You spoke as you wandered over to your bed where most of the discarded clothing were. Picking them up of your sheets, you cradled them all in one arm and placed them onto a rocking chair that was seated in the far corner of your room.

A groan came from inside your wardrobe, followed by the appearance of the wedding doll slamming shut your wardrobe door. Huffing, she crossed her arms. "There is nothing here! Nothing good. hmmm, Argh! What are we gonna do?" Silence filled the space between you both. You hadn't got a clue what was wrong with the clothing you had, Lady Beneviento made them all for you. You were grateful for the beautiful clothing you had been gifted with, treasuring each one making sure to never tear any of the fibres in any of them. 

Soon however the silence was broken with the noise of the manor door opening and the soft sound of wind from outside. "Ooo~ Looks like Donna is back eeee! Lets go say hiiii~" The doll had hovered near the door, waiting for you to follow. Making an 'o' with your mouth, you followed the doll out of your room and down the steps where you were greeted with Lady Beneviento waiting for the both of you. She was mid-way in putting her veil behind her head when she spotted you at the top of the stairs. Smiling sweetly, she held her hand out inviting you to join her.

Plucking the front of your dress you, you walked down the steps being careful not to fall as Angie had glided past you into Donna's arms giving her a hug chanting her name over and over. "Donna! Donna! Donna you're back! Now lets play, No wait lets eat! Ahh, no. Lets get ready for the party- wait no!" Donna raised an eyebrow. party? Now that was news to her.

"What party?" She asked, holding Angie out as she saw you walking in the background towards her.

"Well, hehe. We decided to host a party~ You know, meet...the others...heh?" Angie squirmed out of the holding of Donna and turned to the side to allow you to greet Donna. Curtseying, you showed respect to the Lady of the Manor. Her hand moved to be under your chin. After she moved your chin up so she could see your face showing worry.

"You are holding  party without my permission?" She asked softly, brushing your jawline with her thumb watching your every move. You gulped, feeling much smaller than Donna in the current position and feeling the pressure of guilt seeking into your heart.

"I'm so sorry milady-It's just I haven't been able to go out or see anyone else in a long time. I didn't want to go against you in anyway! I swear," You panicked, feeling Donna's hand become slightly tighter until she released you and brought you close in by snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you into her chest, only to snake the other around and give you a hug. She rested her head on your shoulder and inhaled deeply smelling your shampoo from the morning shower you had before she left for her meeting.

"I'm not mad dear, just tell me next time. However I wish you to not make any agreements with any of my siblings." She pulled away from the hug, still having her arms wrapped around you, and raised an arm up to cradle your cheek. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt by any of them," Her whisper had been tense, like a warning. She gave your temple a kiss, pulling away and smiling once again. "Well if I know Angie, I'm sure the party is being today. Come, I'll fetch some clothing for you to wear for tonight." She stepped out of arms length and began to walk, her shoes clicking against the wood on the floor. You watched her go, only to get nudged by Angie to go follow her. You hastily ran after her, following her to her quarters of the manor. You hoped nothing bad would happen tonight.

Donna had sat waiting patiently for you on a stool. It took 3 hours to create the most elegant dress she could, having the top a little tight with a flowy bottom. In silver hand stitches, were roses crawling up from the bottom of the skirt to the top. Gibeon gemstones were decorating the sweetheart neckline with a sheer of black fabric attached to the top going down to the bottom of your wrists. Donna decided to let you keep the opaque veil, finding it completing the look of your dress. "Do you need any help at all?" Donna asked, sitting waiting for you with hands on her knees.

"No worries, I am....done!" You exclaimed, stepping out behind the folding screens. Your appearance made Donna stand up. You couldn't see her reaction behind her veil but you knew from her movements as she paced herself towards you she was proud of her handy work. Once she was stood in front of you she clasped her hands tightly together.

"Now don't you just look like the perfect doll, all dressed up...for me,"

You tilted your head to the side. "What was that last part Lady Beneviento?" You asked like a lost puppy. She giggled lightly and took hold of your arm, slowly dropping her hand down to take hold of your hand. 

"Do not worry about it, now I think it's time for you to meet my siblings. They are downstairs at the moment already." You nodded and smiled softly. Finally you were going to meet other people! Or monsters...from what Angie has told you and Lady Beneviento from the past. Letting Donna walk in front of you, her hand still in yours, you followed behind her as she lead the way. You could hear many voices from below as well as Angie's screaming and two people arguing. A pit in your stomach had been created. Were you really ready for this?

You had reached the stairs, hiding behind Donna's height. This was it, all voices had became quiet. More likely staring up at Donna. Donna had coughed, clearing her voice. "I'd like you all to meet someone close to me. Be respectful for any foul behaviour towards her I will attend to by using either force or a violent way to manage you." You lightly gasped, you knew Donna to never be someone to ever be violent so her proposing words had left you slightly on edge. Without any warning, Donna had stepped to the side and used her hand to guide you to stand next to her.

You looked below to see three young girls, all dressed in black. A fish like monster with a hunched back and a crown made from bones. A very tall woman flashing a motherly smile at you with a large black hat on her head. And lastly a man that held a hammer that you were sure to be maye just slightly smaller than your own height over his shoulder. Gulping, you waved at them all which resulted in the three girls squealing with Angie. "Oh wow she's just like a doll all dressed up!" One with blonde hair had spoke.

"I know right hehe~ Lady Donna had dressed her up perfectly~" Angie spoke, being just as excited as the rest to see your appearance. Donna gently pulled you closer to her and then walked down the steps. You trailed behind her seeing the three girls go back to their conversation with Angie whilst the fish man went to go towards the office room. Once at the bottom of the steps, both the tall woman and male walked over to you with smiles of their own. Donna had let go of your hand and stood beside you staring behind her veil at the approaching people. She was seething with unseen anger.

"Hello there dearie~" The tall woman spoke, her red lips highlighting the fact she had pearly white teeth. You blushed as she said 'dear'. Her voice to you was very attractive. The male beside her had playfully bowed to you, reaching for your hand with his gloved one and lightly kissed your knuckles.

"Now now Donna, why do you keep this beauty of a fine woman away from us all?" He asked, letting his lips linger on your knuckles as he spoke, only pulling away when the woman in white had hit him on the head.

"I'm sure Lady Beneviento had her reason you man thing. Now give the lady some space and keep your dirty paws off her." She harshly flicked him on the head and turned her attention back towards you. "My name is Lady Dimitrescu, and what might the alluring dazzling girls name be here?" You shyly looked away, rubbing your hand up and down your arm feeling the material below scratch slightly at your skin leaving a tingly feeling.

You bowed your head and spoke with a smile, hiding all your nerves. "My name is (Y/n), its an absolute pleasure to meet you all." Absolutely loving your manners, Lady Dimitrescu had gently stroked your hair.

"Such lovely manners~" She purred out, staring deeply into your eyes that were almost hidden behind your veil.

"Yeah yeah and my name is Lord Heisenberg, but please doll call me Karl~" Heisenberg had spoke, letting his hammer drop to the floor next to him so he could lean against it. Hearing the rather loud noise, you turned your eye sight to stare at him. Seeing your head turn to look directly at him, he grinned and pushed he glasses to the end of his nose sending you a wink. You 'eeped' and looked the other way in embarrassment.

'Keep yourself together!' you shouted at yourself in your head as you huffed out harshly and took a breath in, turning back around to face everyone. Donna wasn't having any of this. How dare they all come into her home and flirt with what is hers. Her doll, her creation, her property.

"How about we go have lunch." She seethed out through closed teeth.

"Oh what a marvellous idea. Say (Y/n), why don't you sit next to me and we can talk more about your life. I'm sure we could also discuss days you could meet me and my daughter. Oh they'll love you, such a graceful woman as yourself is sure an eye-catcher." Lady Dimitrescu had spoke out, grabbing your hand and leading you astray with Lord Heisenberg following behind shouting out how you should instead come to his factory and explore the real world. 

As Donna was left behind, she clenched her fist tightly. To see you walk away with her siblings sent shivers down her spine. You were a beautiful woman, there was no doubt about it so of course you were going to catch the eyes of at least one of her siblings. But she didn't expect you to just...just follow them like that. "Is this jealousy I can smell?~" Dona turned to look at Angie. 

"I have no clue what you're talking about. She doesn't like them, she's only just met them all." She denied, taking a stroll to meet everyone in the dining room.

"Just remember you fell for her when you first saw her~" Angie called from behind making Donna stop in her tracks. She was right, she did indeed fall for you after she set her sight on you. You were so beautiful, everything you had ever done lead her to believe that there was a connection between the two of you. You had spent most time with her, surely you had fallen in love with her. She'll just make sure to claim you before any of the others do. Better to tell the truth then later. And so tonight, she had told herself she would confess to you, confess her feelings and get you to become her other half.

You were stood outside on the porch. Lady Beneveinto had asked you to meet her here after the lunch you had with the other lords and ladies. You felt happy to be within the presence of others instead of just you and Donna being the only functioning people with blood and skin. The weather had became slightly warmer and left with a full moon in the sky. You had your veil pulled back after Heisenberg had asked to see your eye colour. You blushed slightly as the thought of him, however your blushed increased when yo thought of Lady Dimitrescu. How could two people have such strong effects on you. Gosh you felt like you were about to faint in there with their teasing about your height as well bout your manners, though Lady Dimitrescu did say they were perfect.

The door behind you opened and out came Lady Beneviento. You glanced at her and nodded in acknowledgement. "Evening Lady Beneviento." You said, seeing her stand by your side. 

"What do you think about them all?" She asked suddenly catching you off guard. You raised an eyebrow and took a moment to think.

"They are...different from you. I know that for sure. However I do believe that each have their own personality which makes them fun in a way. Not to mention they were all really kind towards me tonight and I felt honoured to be within their presence." You finished with a beaming smile. Donna hummed, looking at the forest in front of her manor. Inside she could hear her siblings fight and Angie chanting cheering them on.

"What do you think about me?" She turned her full attention to you, taking your hands in hers and looking up at you. You couldn't see her facial expression because of her veil but nonetheless, you thought.

"You are someone who takes control when needed. Although quiet, you bring a comforting atmosphere with you everywhere you go. You're really sweet a well and thoughtful, which is why I treasure every dress you give me." Donna listened carefully to your words. She was extremely happy you liked the dresses she makes you, and to also be told that you loved her being around too. She bit her lip in anticipation, maybe this is the right time to say what she is needing to say. Inhaling deeply, she cleared her throat and stepped closer to you, placing her hands on your hips.

"I need to say this because it's been playing on my mind ever since you got here and was given to me. From a playmate, you have made your way past that and became much more to me. What I’m trying to say is that- I love you.”

You stayed in silence, a soft wind brushing through your hair as you looked at Donna.

“Lady Beneviento I- I don’t know what to say.” Your face had turned a slight red, feeling a weird feeling in your stomach- like you were about to faint. Donna held your hands tighter, your knuckles turning white from loss of blood.

“Just say you love me back! Easy right?” Again you had stayed silent, looking away from her to look at the manor door instead. You felt her grip loosen however, you could move your fingers about. “Right?” She pressed on, her voice quivering a little.

“I can’t love you,” you placed her hands to rest in her chest. Slowly you took your hands away from hers and left her standing in shock- not that you could see. “I love someone else, I’m sorry Lady Beneviento. I’m sure someone will love you as much as you love them one day.”moving yourself away from the awkward conversation, you had left Donna standing alone on the porch, going back inside only to be greeted by both Heisenberg and Dimitrescu.

Dropping her hands to the side, Donna had gripped the side of her dress. Her shoulda slowly shook up and down growing rapidly in speed. A single breathy laugh left her throat. “If you don’t love me-

I’ll make you love me.”

[abbacchiosbelt]

Clarity | Johnny Joestar x F!Reader

18+ under the cut, CW for lactation kink. 5477k words.

The thought of finally getting to lay down on a real bed as opposed to a bedroll is the only thing keeping you going as you look between Gyro and Johnny, arguing about something out of earshot right in the lobby of the hotel you’d chosen for the night. All you wanted to do was collapse in your hotel room, but your companions were making it difficult. The day had already been incredibly long and more challenging than usual thanks to the humid, swamp-like forest your group had been forced to cross through.

(When the three of you had finally emerged, you were bitten from head to toe and marked with tiny red blotches. Gyro and Johnny had somehow escaped the barrage of bugs that had attacked you. The three of you had stopped momentarily to check each other and the horses over for any particularly nasty bites. Gyro was far too animated for someone who’d just been eaten up by bugs and Johnny was flushed bright red, almost appearing embarrassed as he peeked at you from under his beanie.

Johhny had kept peeking at you throughout the ride to the nearest town – a town that Gyro claimed he ‘knew a guy’ in that would give him a good deal on hotel rooms. Nothing was better than a bargain during the Steel Ball Run, so the three of you had trudged forward despite how tired everyone was. Still, Johnny had enough energy to keep staring at you for a reason you couldn’t parse. His eyes would linger when he saw you scratching the marks, though the emotion on his face was unreadable.

After enough time, you decided to say something. “Johnny, they’re just itchy. You don’t have to worry about it.” It’s not that you minded Johnny looking at you – he was very cute, and you’d come to grow quite fond of him – but no one would feel like being looked at after being sweaty and covered in bug bites.

“S-sorry,” Johhny had muttered, looking embarrassed about being caught. Gyro had cracked up at Johhny’s response, seemingly aware of something that you weren’t. You were too tired to ask, so you let it go as the three of you continued.

Still, you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed knowing that Johnny was looking at you… Even if you were covered in bug bites.)

Just when you’re about to go over and attempt to figure out what the problem is, your companions turn to look at you with mixed expressions on their faces – Gyro is grinning from ear-to-ear while Johnny’s face is set in a pout, his cheeks bright pink. You step closer so Gyro doesn’t yell loud enough to alert everyone in the lobby again. Gyro’s grin somehow grows even wider as you stand next to Johhny, the blonde pointedly avoiding eye contact.

“So?” You say. Their conversation had looked heated and you could only make out a few words. You were curious to find out what exactly had the two so riled up.

“I got us the rooms.” Gyro starts. “I thought it’s only fair I get the single one. Johnny-boy isn’t so keen on sharing, though, so if you would rather stay with me instead of him…” Gyro trails off. You barely register what Gyro even said before Johhny speaks, heated.

“Gyro! I never said that. I just thought it wasn’t proper to share rooms n’ all with a woman.” Johhny chances a glance at you before he looks back down into his lap. “If you’re gonna be an ass about it, I’m sure she’d rather avoid you for the rest of the night.” Gyro laughs at Johnny’s barb, used to his harsh tongue. “’Sides, your room only has one bed and the other one has two, right?”

“Yep.” Gyro replies, his expression unchanging. Johhny narrows his eyes at Gyro, the Italian raising his hands in protest. “That’s what my guy told me! I’m not lying.”

If you didn’t step in now, Gyro and Johnny would bicker for the rest of the night. “It’s fine. I’m glad to share a room with Johnny.” Though his face is downturned, you can see the tips of Johnny’s ears turn red. “But I’ve about had it with the arguing, so if you boys don’t mind, I’m going to head to the room now.”

The prospect of sharing a room with Johnny had your stomach fluttering in excitement. Sure, he didn’t seem to respond to your flirting much, but he was decent enough to spend time with and didn’t talk nearly as much as Gyro did.  

“Fine by me. I’ve got some business to attend at that bar next door anyways.” Johnny rolls his eyes at Gyro’s words and Gyro responds with one of his ‘nyo-hos’, making Johnny roll his eyes even harder. “You’re welcome to join, Johnny, but I know you’d rather be in bed, sì?”

Johnny looks like he’s about to strangle Gyro, which cues your louder companion to chuckle as he quickly exits the hotel, leaving you and Johhny alone.

“Wanna head back to the room?” Johnny says, breaking the awkward silence. With a nod, you and Johnny set off to the back of the hotel. Luckily, the rooms were located on the bottom floor of the hotel instead of up the staircase. You and Gyro had no issue with helping Johnny upstairs, but you knew he preferred to do things on his own. You couldn’t blame him. Johnny jingles the set of keys the receptionist gave to him before he unlocks the door, letting it swing open to reveal a tidy and reasonably sized room for the discount price.

The room has a cabin theme – deep brown oak walls with stained wood flooring, richly colored furniture, a double bed with strong oak posts… Both of you are silent when you come to the realization the Gyro had, in fact, lied about the conditions of the room.

“I’ll take the couch—” Johhny starts, but you speak at the same time.

“You can have the bed—"

You stare at each other for a moment. Johnny’s mouth opens and closes like he wants to say something, but he remains silent. It would be up to you, then.

“We could share.” You offer, willing yourself to look at Johnny. He averts his gaze but after a few moments eventually mumbles a quiet ‘fine’, his whole face pink again. It was adorable how easy it was to fluster him – his blushing always gave him away.

“You can change your mind later if you wanna, I won’t be offended.” Johhny mumbles. Johnny was wrong if he thought you were dreading this or were just doing it to be nice. Though you hadn’t started the day with the intention of spending a night in a hotel room with Johnny Joestar, you certainly weren’t complaining about how the day had turned out. There’s a small part of you that wonders if Johhny is just saying ‘yes’ to be nice, but you’d spent enough time with the ornery jockey to know he didn’t do anything he didn’t want to. If he were actually upset about the room, he would have left and chased Gyro down.

The fact that he hadn’t meant that Johhny did want to spend time with you, but whether he had more in mind for the night was a mystery to you.

“You okay?” Johhny’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you smile sheepishly.

“Sorry. It’s been a long day.” You gesture down to your grime-covered clothes and bitten arms. Johhny doesn’t look much better either – his clothes are just as muddy, and his hat is practically plastered to his hair. Nothing sounded better than a hot bath right about now. Even though you didn’t want to leave Johnny alone, both of you would be in a better mood after getting clean. “You wanna take the bath first?”

“Uh,” Johhny mumbles. “I don’t mind, but I’ll need help getting out. Normally Gyro helps out. I can wait until he gets back and bug him about it if ya want.” He glances at you, lips turned down into a frustrated frown.

“I don’t mind at all. I’ll just throw a towel at you and close my eyes if you want.” Your attempt to lighten his mood makes Johhny’s grumble in embarrassment, but his frown softens.

“Y-yeah, that’ll work.” Johhny acquiesces to your proposal with no fight at all – you’d expected a bit more complaining from him. It was a pleasant surprise and one that had your heart skipping a beat in your chest out of excitement that you didn’t want to acknowledge just yet. Maybe he was just tired and didn’t want to argue any longer. (Or maybe, you hope, he’s not so opposed to the idea of you seeing him without clothes on.)

“At the very least, let me get the bath started for you.” Before Johnny can protest you bring a finger to your lips and walk to the mid-sized bathroom located in the righthand corner of the room. The door is already open, so you’re greeted by the site of the well-kept bathroom as soon as you look in. The tub is the nicest one you’ve seen in a long while. It certainly beats bathing in the rain or the cold mountain springs.

Sat on the tub’s edge is a collection of soaps, bath oils, and other body care products. Gyro was right when he said this guy owed him – the kind of products the hotel had offered as an amenity wasn’t cheap. You hum as you lean down to pick through the selection, leaving out a honey-scented bar of soap for Johnny that had a hint of pine to it. You set the other products to the side after picking out a mint-scented hair care set.

Though you didn’t think Johnny would be too perturbed by the other scents, it was the lightest and most refreshing smell of the bunch. Finally, you get to the task you came into the bathroom for originally and lean over the tub to twist the faucets until water starts pouring from the faucet. Your mind drifts to thoughts of what Johnny would look like naked and soaped up - strong arms glistening, blonde hair curling around his shoulders, his chest and what laid below. You only look down when you realize you’ve been letting the water run for too long, but luckily, the faucet seems to be slow-going. You bite your lip as you will the thoughts away and concentrate back on your task. Although you consider asking him if you could take a bath first to slip away for some alone time, you’d feel guilty making him wait. With a sigh, you stand up and call out for him.

“It’s ready!” As you walk out of the bathroom you’re greeted by Johnny, so close that he almost runs over your toes with his chair. Your face heats up as you remember what you were just daydreaming about. “O-oh, Johhny, sorry.”

“Careful,” he chides, peering up at you. “I didn’t get ya, did I?”

You shake your head, hoping he doesn’t see how hard you’re blushing. “Nah, I almost ran into you. Besides, you only run over Gyro’s toes on purpose, right?”

Johhny stifles a laugh and his face lights up in a rare toothy grin. “Ya got me.” He says. “Don’t tell him, though.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Johnny’s smile turns into a familiar smirk – a smirk that was unfairly attractive. Anyone could be swayed by it. It reminds you that Johhny used to be a playboy back in the day – that he was surrounded by women and had his pick of the most beautiful ones there. The thought hits you like a train, and you wonder for a moment if you even have a chance with him. His playboy days may have been over, but he had time to experience everything under the sun back then. Suddenly nervous, you walk around Johnny to sit down on the bed.

“I’ll holler for ya when I’m done.” Johnny shuts the door behind him, and you’re left alone with your thoughts again, wondering if perhaps you’d misread the situation.

You lie back on the bed and wait for Johhny to call for you, resigning yourself to daydreaming about making a move.

-

Only a few feet away, Johhny was panicking behind the bathroom door and wondering if you felt the same way he did. Johhny was smitten – even during the worst days of the race, your smile was like a light on a cloudy day. God, you even had him using cheesy metaphors. He doesn’t want to ignore how he feels about you any longer, but… Would you even want someone like him? You were strong and beautiful, and he was just a washed-up jockey who had barely entered into the Steel Ball Run. What could you possibly see in him?

He grumbles, beginning the arduous task of removing his clothes until he’s left in nothing but his briefs. They’d be easier to remove once he got into the water. His clothes were going to be cleaned later, so whether they got wet now or later didn’t really matter to Johhny. With a practiced motion, he pushes himself up and out of his wheelchair onto the ledge of the tub until he can slide in comfortably. It took him a long time to get good at it, but he was set on retaining as much independence as he could. Still, it was impossible to get out without the help of someone else unless he wanted to risk hurting himself. This time, that person would be you.

Johhny leans back in the tub and groans at the thought of you seeing him so vulnerable. You wouldn’t judge him, he knew that, but the thought still plagued him while he started to wash. Whatever you had picked out for him smelled nice enough that Johhny used more than he needed, enjoying the luxury of expensive bath products for the first time in a while.

Eventually, the water runs cold and Johnny knows he can’t stall any longer. He’d decided to keep his briefs on – at least until you helped him out of the tub. He’d figure out the rest later. Taking a deep breath, he calls for you.

“M’ done!” It only takes a moment for you to respond – he hears the creak of the floorboards from you walking towards the bathroom.

-

You poke your head in the bathroom frame and observe him, smiling. He looked relaxed for once. Johnny’s head was resting against the far edge of the tub, eyes closed and hair floating around his shoulders as he enjoyed the final few moments in his bath. He opens his eyes to look at you and immediately averts his gaze, cheeks already starting to heat up.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to take a peek at anything I can’t already see.” Johnny’s eyes open wide and you realize what you’ve just said, hand flying up to your mouth to cover it out of embarrassment. As much as you’d like to run and hide, you had to help Johnny out of the tub.

“Uh,” Johnny starts, but you interrupt him.

“Sorry. It’s been a long day.” You mumble, letting your hand fall to your side as you approach the tub. Johnny holds your gaze instead of looking away, his eyes bright.

“I don’t… Ya don’t…” He pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Ya can look if you want.”

Your heart skips a beat and you’re positive that you must have misheard him. When you meet his gaze, though, Johnny’s expression tells you that you heard him correctly the first time. He’s blushing, but the small smile he had on his face was easy to read. Johnny wasn’t as brazen as he was in his playboy days, but he hadn’t forgotten how to flirt.

Johnny sits up in the tub and lets the water slide down his shoulders and chest as they’re exposed to you, the smooth skin glistening with soap. The bubbles have dissipated enough so that you can see his lower torso and legs in the water. His legs look soft and plush compared to his muscular upper body and it’s all you can do not to stare at the expanse of his freckled skin. There’s so much you want to say, to babble about how cute and handsome Johnny is – but you were here to help him, not take advantage of the fact he needed your help to ogle him despite his encouragement.

“Ready?” You ask. Johnny tilts his head and gives you a look that tells you he knows exactly what you’re thinking about, but merely nods. With his consent, you lean over and into the tub before hooking your arms under his and hoist him carefully to the edge of the tub so he can dry off his body. Once he’s finished, you help him back into his chair, having placed a towel on the seat beforehand so he didn’t soak it through.

“Thanks. I know it’s a hassle.” Johhny mumbles, whatever confidence he had shown earlier quickly deflating.

“No!” You shout, and Johnny’s eyes go wide. “I-I mean, no, it’s not a hassle.” You pause for a moment. “You’re not a hassle.”

It’s not a flowery compliment, but to Johnny, your words are everything – his face, still tinged with pink from his current situation, lights up as he tucks his head into his shoulder and tries to hide the smile on his face from you.

It was almost comical how the two of you were so close yet so far from revealing how you felt about each other, the awkward dance being performed one built on anxiety and self-doubt. The stars had aligned things in your favor so often, yet you both tried to ignore what was so obvious to Gyro and fate itself. No longer could either of you play ignorant, your words stroking a fire in Johnny that had been only ashes for far too long.

There’s silence, as you register what you’ve said, and then you and Johnny are both talking at the same time—

“Johnny, I need to tell you something-“

“Can I talk to you when you’re done-“

The words end up jumbled together and both of you stare at each other, eyes wide and cheeks pink. Johnny tilts his head and nods at you.

“You go first.” Although you would have said the same thing to him, Johnny had spoken first. You can only hope what you were about to reveal to him was the same thing he had wanted to say to you.

“Okay,” You breathe, steeling yourself. “Johnny, I like you. You’ve never been a burden to me, and…” You shy away from looking him in the eyes, nerves overcoming you. “I would like to be with you.”

Johnny doesn’t even take a second before responding, sounding just as nervous as you had. “Yes! I mean,” he clears his throat, and you look up to meet his pale blue eyes. There’s sincerity in his face when he speaks next. “I would like that too if you’ll have me…”

Though you want to lean down and kiss him, there’s another pressing matter at hand – you glance at the bath and Johnny follows your eyes, his mouth quirking up on one side in a smirk.

“Take your time,” He says, pivoting away from you in his wheelchair and into the bathroom doorway. Though his face is away from you, the pink tips of his ears are visible. “I don’t mind waiting.”

-

By the time the tub has drained and been refilled so you could scrub down the grime of the past few weeks, it’s been nearly half an hour. Your nerves have been abuzz the whole time with anticipation, wondering just what Johnny was thinking about on the other side of the doorway. Did he regret what he said, or was he just as excited as you? Even though he’d told you as much, anxiety still dug its nasty claws into your thoughts. It wouldn’t be worth it to come this far and give up, though, so once you’re dry you step back outside to the hotel room in little more than the linen robe the hotel had provided.

Johhny, true to his word, was waiting near the large bed that acted as the centerpiece of the room. He snaps his head towards you as soon as he hears the bathroom door open, his mouth slightly parted as he watches you emerge from the steamy room. He takes in the expanse of your skin revealed by the robe and swallows, adam’s apple bobbing as he allows himself to really look at you for the first time. He hadn’t felt worthy of doing so before but knowing that you desired him too gave him license to finally appreciate you.

Johnny looks you from head to toe with clear appreciation written on his face as his cheeks turn red, his arms not at all subtly covering his lower half. You walk forward until you’re close enough to touch him, hands desperate to reach out and caress him – you hold yourself back though, waiting to see what Johnny would do.

He stammers for a moment before getting his words out, barely able to look at you. “O-oh, you look so beautiful.” Johnny chances a glance at you from under his lashes and you smile at him before you lean down to his face, lips nearly touching his own.

“Can I kiss you?” You whisper. Johnny’s breath hitches in his throat and his lips are on yours immediately, only slightly chapped from the wear and tear of the road. You hardly care though, not when you’re finally kissing him. Johnny shyly swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, and you surprise him by coaxing him to open his mouth with your tongue, a small moan rising from the back of his throat.

When you finally break apart both of you are breathless and Johnny’s pupils are blown wide, cheeks bright pink.

“Do you want to move to the bed?” You ask, and Johnny nods with no hesitation. He pauses for a moment as he looks between the bed and himself, bottom lip jutting out in the tiniest pout.

“You won’t think it’s… weird, having to help me up there?” His voice wavers and you can tell that he’ll lose steam fast if he gets too in his head.

“You remember what I said earlier, don’t you?” Johnny nods his head again at your words. You cup the side of his face with your hand and run your thumb gently across one of his cheekbones, smiling. “I meant it. Now come on, I think we’re both feeling a little impatient.”

It only takes a few moments for you to get Johnny onto the bed, helping him so that he can lean back against the headboard with his legs out in front of him. Before climbing on yourself, you let your robe fall to the floor and earn a quiet noise of appreciation from Johnny. You feel a little shy when you realize your skin still has bumps after being razed by mosquitos from earlier in the day.

“Sorry about the bumps, I hope they’re not too gross.” It’s Johnny’s time to reassure you this time, his eyes going wide and his mouth twisting up into a little knowing smile.

“I don’t mind,” He says, though Johhny offers no further explanation. “You’re right, I am impatient, so get yer cute ass over here.”

Perhaps finally being able to look at you fully had inspired a bit of the old Johnny to make an appearance again – you giggle at his bold words before climbing up onto the bed, no longer worried about your appearance. Johnny was earnest, and you could trust that he wasn’t lying about enjoying what he was seeing.

You settle yourself over his legs so you’re hovering just above the hardness protruding from his briefs. Johhny practically whines as you let yourself barely ghost against it, his arms shooting up to take hold of your shoulders. He was already so sensitive. You press yourself against his bulge again and Johhny’s fingers tighten on your shoulders, a low whistle leaving his mouth.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Johnny breathes, biting his lip. You respond by grinding down on him again and he lets out a sharp noise, one of his eyebrows raising as he looks at you. “You’re gonna tease me, ain’t ya?”

“Just a little.” Johhny huffs a laugh at your reply, the laugh quickly cut off when you lean down and press your lips against his neck, hips rolling at the same time to press yourself against him once more.

Johnny groans and starts to slide his hands down your bare arms, his fingers gently sliding against the bites that you had received earlier in the day. The sensation isn’t something you’re used to, but with Johnny doing it, you can’t help but enjoy it as his light touches send a shiver down your spine. You finally break apart from his neck and Johnny is practically panting, looking at you with lidded eyes. His eyes trail down to your breasts and his gaze turns hungry.

“Can I touch you there?” Johnny brings his hands to your breasts, his touch only inches away – when you nod, he wastes no time bringing his hands down as he begins to massage your breasts, fingers gingerly working over your nipples. His mouth drops open when he sees a droplet of milk-white liquid begin to pool, looking up at you in wonder. Even you’re surprised by the development, though you remember reading in a health book long ago that any long-term simulation could cause your breasts to lactate. Perhaps it had been the long journey you’d taken throughout the Steel Ball Run. It was new, but you weren’t complaining. Johnny looks at you eagerly. He doesn’t have to speak for you to figure out what he wants.

“Please,” you murmur. Johnny dips his head down and latches his mouth against one of your nipples, suckling gently as he uses his hand to continue to massage you. It feels so alien but so good that you keen into him as his mouth works your nipple over, the stimulation causing milk to flow into his mouth. You can only grind against Johnny helplessly as he switches from left to right, sucking and licking at your nipples until they were puffy. The way he was drinking down your milk with such enthusiasm was almost enough to send you over the edge.

Johnny lifts his head once your moans turn into cries of ‘too much’, licking his lips. His clothed cock twitches against your bare pussy, the fabric of his briefs soaked from your ministrations with a mix of his precum and your juices. You’d be feeling ashamed of what a mess you had made on him if you weren’t so turned on, and by the way Johnny was looking at you, it was clear he felt the same.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Johnny whines. “I need you; I want you,” he starts to babble, cock twitching against you again. “Please, darlin’, let me fuck you.”

Johnny’s husky voice sends a pang of arousal straight to your lower half – it’s what you’ve been waiting for. You help Johnny wiggle out of his briefs, his cock immediately springing forward and leaking precum. It was cute, just like the rest of him. His blush turns beet red when he catches you staring at it, his boldness wavering.

“You’re perfect.” You lean forward to kiss Johnny and he sighs into your mouth, sigh falling away to a loud whine when you wrap your fingers around his cock and gently pump him. Johnny’s whines are almost the cutest thing about him, but the time to tease him for that would be later. For now, the only thing you could think about was filling yourself with his cock until neither of you could take it any longer.

You climb on top of Johnny and let yourself hover over his cock, gently grinding against the spongy head to help lubricate him. Johnny’s head rolls back and hits the headboard with a quiet thump, his mouth hanging open as he almost loses himself in the sensation. After a few moments, he rolls his head back forward, his eyes full of adoration and lust.

“You’re perfect too,” he says. “But please, let me fuck ya already-“

You don’t give Johnny a chance to say anything else before you catch the head of his cock on your slick entrance and slide down, taking his stiff cock in one go as you moan through the mild burn. It’s nothing compared to how good it feels to finally be full of him. Johnny whines loud enough that you’re sure the whole building can hear him but neither of you cares – not now, when the only thing in the world that matters is the two of you joined together.

“Aw, fuck-“ Johnny hisses. You roll your hips and Johnny brings his hands down to cling on to them, squeezing tight. “I don’t know how long I can last; you feel so good.”

“Me either,” you reply. “You feel so good in me, Johhny.” Johnny’s eyes almost roll back into the back of his head when he hears his name fall from your lips – the culmination of months of flirting and close calls was enough to have both of you feeling overstimulated so early on. It was good, though, like nothing you’d ever felt with anyone before.

“Please keep movin’,” Johnny rasps. You oblige without a second thought, starting with a slow rhythm of your hips that has his cock hitting all the right spots inside of you. Johnny’s arms move from your hips until they’re wrapped around you so the two of you are pulled close together, your chest pressed against his own while your hips keep working his cock inside of you.

Johnny pants and lets out tiny whines at every single roll of your hips, his face bright pink and his pupils blown wide as you fuck him into the bed. Your name falls from his mouth when you start to clench your walls around him while you increase the pace. Johnny tightens his arms around you and pulls you even closer, his head tucked into the crook of your neck.

“I’m close,” he hisses. “C-can I cum in you?”

You nod your head eagerly, consequences be damned – it didn’t matter when his cock was so hot and heavy inside of you. All you wanted was to feel him cum inside of you and know that you’d been enough to make him lose control. The closeness of your bodies has your clit rubbing against Johnny’s lower stomach, the stimulation helping you edge closer and closer to your release.

“Oh god,” Johnny groans – it only takes a few more moments until his mouth falls open and his arms grip like a vice around you as he crosses over the edge, his cock twitching as he shoots ropes of cum inside you. You don’t slow down though, your hips still rolling as you chase your release while Johnny holds on for dear life as you milk his cock. The sound of Johnny’s low moans is what sends you over the edge, the orgasm ripping through your body with such force that you fall bonelessly against Johnny, panting.

“Fuck,” Johnny whispers. “You’re incredible.” You smile against his skin and lift yourself back up to look at him, sweat plastered on both of your foreheads as you bathe in the afterglow.

“So are you,” You reply. Johnny blushes, though you’re not sure the blush ever left his face since he and Gyro had argued down in the lobby just a few hours ago. You groan quietly as you pull up from him and flop next to him, laying your head on his shoulder. Johnny wraps an arm around you and uses his free hand to lace his fingers through yours, sighing.

“So…” He mumbles, his voice trailing off.

“So?” You ask, peeking up at him. There’s a sheepish smile on his face.

“I think we probably need to use the bath again… but can we stay like this for a while?” Johnny's smile falters for just a second as if he thinks you might say no – but when you snuggle harder against him, his smile splits into a content grin.

“Of course.”

-

The next morning arrives faster than either of you want it to when Gyro bangs on the door, demanding to know if the two of you had a good time last night.

[amiableness]

Still Best Friends {1}

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut

summary: y/n has always liked JJ until they sleep together and things begin to change

a/n: this is horrible but its my first time writing so there is for sure room for improvement

“Truth, Y/n.” You lifted your beer towards John B as your way to tell him to continue. The three of you were lounging around on the boat while drinking beers and playing truth or dare. So far most of them had become truths, you didn’t mind though, you were pretty nosey when it came to your friends.

“Best guy you’ve ever been with?” You let out a quick laugh before taking a drink and sighing.

“No one.”

“No one? Come on, you gotta answer better than that.” John B gave a look as Sarah leaned against his shoulder.

“That’s my answer, guys aren’t as good in bed as they let on.” You knew when the six of you started playing this game, you were gonna run into a question that made you slightly uncomfortable. You had only been with three guys, but none of them were anything to brag about. Your first time you knew it wasn’t going to be anything great, it was your first time, you expected that. However, it never got any better like you had heard it was supposed to, so you gave up on your fantasy of great sex. Maybe that just wasn’t ever going to happen for you. Maybe you were going to have to fake your orgasms for the rest of your life, and once they were gone deal with it yourself.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been with a guy who is good in bed?” Kiara questioned leaning forward to look at you. Pope was sitting next to her, sending you a surprised look. She knew this already, you knew she was just teasing you because she knew about your crush on JJ. After coming over to her house beyond mad that you had yet again another disappointing night in bed, you let it slip that maybe if you hooked up with JJ this wouldn’t happen. She knew you weren’t the type for a random hookup though, and she quickly caught on to your crush.

“That’s what I’m saying, yes.”

“So you’ve never finished with them?” JJ questioned and you quickly tried to hide behind your beer bottle as you looked at him.

“Sorry some guys aren’t as good in bed as you claim to be.” You quickly teased him, receiving a smile and a shake of the head in return. You didn’t want to be having this conversation anymore. Especially if JJ was going to add to it. The idea of having a conversation about your sex life with JJ wasn’t a good idea to you. Especially since he’s the guy who’s in your head as your finish yourself off when the sex is less than pleasing to you.

“Kie, your turn.” You called trying to shake off the attention on you. As comfortable as you felt around your friends, talking about you terrible sex life wasn’t one you were willingly to share. It was embarrassing to you, you didn’t want them all to know that you had never once finished in the bedroom with someone else. You were starting to think that maybe you were the common denominator.

By the time you guys were all walking back to the Chateau from the boat, it was getting pretty dark out. You all seemed to be calling it an early night, which was a bit unusual for all of you. As you all made your way to the tiny, run-down house, you noticed Sarah leaning against John B as he held an arm around her waist. Pope and Kiara were walking ahead of everyone laughing about something quietly. That left you and JJ walking behind the four. You tried not to focus too hard on his presence next to you, but that had never been easy for you.

Ever since you had met the group a few years ago, you had found yourself drawn to JJ. He was unlike any guy you had ever liked before, and maybe that’s why you ended up liking him so much. The only person who knew about your crush on JJ was Kiara, and she kept the secret well. She had tried to convince you to just tell JJ, but you never listened. It was a secret you always wanted to keep hidden.

“Are you heading home after this?” You glanced over at your best friend next to you. The fact he didn’t have a shirt on distracting you briefly.

“Probably, the couples seem to be ready to end the night early.” Even though Kiara and Pope weren’t a couple, you and JJ had always joked they were in secret. You both thought they would work well together.

“Want me to walk you home? I got nothing better to do.” He nudged you softly with his shoulder and you smiled.

“Glad to be your number one choice.”

Sarah was spending the night so John B rushed the rest of you guys out. You quickly said your goodbyes before heading out with JJ towards your house. When Kiara noticed she sent you the biggest grin and a wink which you were really hoping JJ hadn’t seen.

The walk to your house was relatively quiet except for a few jokes every once in a while between the two of you. You tried to ignore how your hands would brush every once in awhile, it made your heart speed up every time. You couldn’t tell if JJ just wasn’t effected by it or he just didn’t notice.

“So, no one at all huh?” You could see your tiny white house coming up ahead of you. Your mom wasn’t home, she rarely was. She was always working, she said she wanted a better life for the two of you. You didn’t mind the life you had, you just wanted her home.

“What?” You hummed.

“Earlier tonight, you haven’t finished with anyone.” Your body tensed and you felt your face heat up. JJ laughed slightly at your reaction.

“Oh, yea no I haven’t.” You waited for JJ to tease you about it and make fun of you just a little, but it never came.

“Damn.” You shrugged your shoulders as you reached your front door and began to unlock it.

“I guess, pretty sure it’s my fault though so I can’t complain. Are you coming in?” It was your usual routine to have JJ hangout at yours for a bit after he walked you home. Sometimes if your mom wasn’t home and he just felt like he couldn’t go home, you let him stay. He always slept in your bed with you, it made you nervous every time, but nothing had ever happened. It was just a friend helping another friend out, how it will always be.

“Yea, if that’s okay.” He answered walking through the door and locking it behind him. You simply nodded. The house was slightly messy from the last time your mom was here, she never had enough time to clean up after herself after she came home from one job and headed to the next.

“Y/n.” You turned around from picking up your mess to see JJ sitting on the couch watching you. You set down the empty glasses you were holding and sat down next to him pulling your legs to the side of you while facing him.

“Yea?”

“Want some help?”

“Oh, it’s okay I just gotta do dishes and-“

“Not with that.” You stopped talking, he wasn’t talking about the dishes. You opened your mouth and closed it, not sure what to say. After those words left his mouth you were aware just how close you were to him and you were sure he could tell you were insanely nervous.

“You mean with sex?” You asked, your voice sounding unsure. JJ laughed a little a ran his hand through his hair.

“Not really helping you, just thought I could be that guy that actually makes you cum.” Was he messing with you? Why would he want to help you out with this? I mean, he would be having sex and since when has JJ ever turned that down.

“I wouldn’t want it to get awkward between us.”

“We’re best friends, that’s never gonna change.” Right, just best friends. Part of you wanted to tell him no, and that it wouldn’t be a good idea. But another part of you wanted to take the one chance with JJ you would ever get with him. You already knew he just saw you as a friend, so it’s not like it would be a big deal to spend one night together. Just sex, just one time.

“Let’s do it, what’s the worst that could happen.” Your voice sounded a lot more confident than you felt. JJ took those words to lean even closer to you than he was, letting his lips brush against yours. Your body froze as his fingers traced your thigh slowly leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? You’re pretty tense.” JJ drew back a little to get a good look at you and before you could let yourself overthink anything else you, you placed your hands in front of you to steady yourself and placed your lips against his. It didn’t take him long to react, quickly kissing you back and threading his hand through the back of your hair to pull you closer. With him tugging you closer to him, you slid yourself into his lap to kiss him even harder.

You were quickly becoming lost in him as you both let your hands roam and your lips travel. He trailed soft kisses down your neck that had you leaning your head back to give him more room. Your head was spinning and you felt hot. Even with your tank top, bikini top under and shorts on, you were overheating. You knew it was mostly likely due to the boy you have had feeling for so long kissing down your neck and gripping your thighs like he never wanted to let go.

Your moans and sighs we’re getting slightly louder by each passing minute, a little nervous to show JJ just how into it you truly were. You hadn’t ever been thus turned on by a guy before, and it was probably because none of them were ever JJ. Between kisses you felt JJ grip your thighs and pick you up, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. You knew he was heading to your room and the thought of that had you growing more excited than you were before. He sat you on the edge of your bed lifting your arms so he could take off your tank top. You were left in a tiny baby pink bikini top on, you definitely should've gone a size up when you bought it.

“Always thought you looked so fucking hot wearing this.” He mumbles as he pulls away to look at you and his words leave you feeling breathless. You didn’t know he even noticed you when you were in a bikini.

As he kisses around the top he grabs your hand and pulls you up gently, just enough so he can spin you so you back is nearly against him as he undone a the bikini top. Your nipples harden as the top falls and hits the floor. You feel JJ push the hair away from your neck as he leaves soft kisses on your neck. You turn around to kiss him again but he stops you as he looks at your body. He looks completely turned on just by looking at you.

“You’re fucking beautiful, baby.” Your breath hitches at the nick name and you quickly press your lips to his as a thank you.

“Arms up, J.” You grab then hem of his shirt and tug it up and toss it across your room. The first time you’re fully able to stare at JJ and not worry about being caught. He leans you back down so he can kiss across your chest, teasing you by brushing his lips softly against your nipples earring a moan from you every time.

“Quit teasing.” Only then is when he swirls his tongue around your nipple making your back arch.

You find yourself quickly being pressed against the bed again as JJ slips your shorts and underwear down your thighs, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You’re about to protest that he’s still clothed but he slips his shorts and underwear down too.

Seeing him completely naked and hard has made you want him more than you ever thought was possibly. You’re soaking wet by this point, and he knows it.

“Spread your legs.” You do as he tells you and you lean back against the sheets. His large hands hold your thighs and he teases you by running his fingers along the outside of your pussy. With your moans and your whines for him to stop teasing it doesn’t take long before you’re watching his fingers pump in and out of you. He doesn’t let it last long though, and you’re disappointed when he pulls away from you and tells you to sit up.

He places a few kisses to your lips before whispering against them.

“Bend over, baby.”

You lay against the bed and stick your ass into the air and your feel JJ’s hands roaming over your back and your ass. You can hear the packaging of the condom as you lay against the sheets trying to calm your mind. You gasp as you can feel him teasing your clit with his cock before pushing into you, hardly giving you any warning. You let out a loud moan as you sink further into your bed. All the times you had been with other guys they had never wanted to try this position and you were really feeling the difference. The room was filled was the sounds of both your moans and the sounds of JJ thrusting into you. As loud as you two were being, you were really hoping your neighbors couldn’t hear.

JJ teased you with slow thrusts until you were begging for him to fuck you hard. By the time he sped up you were so close and couldn’t stop all the noises falling from your mouth.

“You’re so fucking pretty bent over like this.” He complimented you before sliding back into you as you gripped the sheets and cried out. It felt like ages that you bent over against the bed as JJ had his way with you. Your back was starting to ache but the feeling of him filling you up overpowered that.

He grabbed your hips and flipped you over so you were on your back and spread your legs. His chest was against yours as he slipped back into you and he pressed kisses against your lips and neck as he fucked you.

“I’m not gonna be able to last much longer.” His voice was raspy and it nearly made your eyes roll back. You simply nodded, not trusting that you could even use your voice to tell him you were close too. He fucked you hard the last few times before the two of you were complete messes tangled together as you came. Both your breathing was heavy as he fell against his back pulling you onto his chest. The two of you laid there with your fingers tangled together.

“Still best friends right?” You asked, part of you hoping he’d say something else.

“Still best friends.” He said as he pressed a kiss against your head.

[mister-supernova]

This Isn’t Goodbye

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader

No one expected today to escalate the way it did. The Salvatore School had its fair share of chaos this entire year, and having a group of grown adults barge onto school grounds with guns and bark orders while treating supernatural kids like the scum of the Earth surprisingly wasn’t the worst thing that was going to happen to you today. 

Without the ability to access your powers, none of the students could defend themselves and there was no one else around to protect any of you. The members of the triad were ruthless and especially dangerous with their Malivore mud bullets that could poison any student who crossed the line. 

Unfortunately, you and Josie bit the end of one of those bullets. It wasn’t even supposed to hit you, but a shard managed to bounce off the floor and dig into your leg. 

At first, you didn’t know you were hit until you could feel your energy escaping you with every minute that passed. You thought that maybe you were just dehydrated, then you looked down and noticed the blood seeping through your jeans--your blood. 

Part of you didn’t know how you were able to stay on your feet while you, Hope, Lizzie, and Jo were forced to go into the werewolf holding cells in the basement. Lizzie was tending to Josie on one side of the cell on a cot while you and Hope were sat up against the wall on the other side of the room. 

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n. I swear. Once we find a way to figure out what’s blocking our magic, we’ll get that out of you as quickly as possible.” Hope says, her voice wavering ever so slightly. It made you smile, hearing the big, brave, tribrid worry for you. 

When you first met Hope, you weren’t sure that she had any interest in you once so ever. She was the mysterious, martyr-complex heroine trying to find her purpose in the world. She never let herself get too close to anyone because of her fear of losing them. 

Like MG, you were Dr. Saltzman’s student assistant when it came to taming the out of control werewolves of the school, so you saw Hope more often than the other students did. It was probably two years ago--about a year after meeting Hope--that you guys spoke more than three words to each other. 

You made yourself comfortable around Hope fairly quickly after becoming friends. She would never say that you two became friends so fast, but you believe otherwise. 

Unlike the many other students who tried befriending Hope and ended up backing down on her due to the fact that she was very stubborn, you never gave up on her.

Instead, you continued to be your usual goofball self around her. You’d tell her one terrible joke every day and even though she acted like she loathed it, she always looked forward to hearing them.  

Sometimes you would catch her sitting alone at one of the tables in the library either reading for one of your classes or studying for an exam. You’d pull up a chair and sit right beside her, nearly talking her ear off for half an hour while she pretended not to listen when really she was taking in every detail. You knew this because you’d notice her smile softly from behind her book. 

The two of you grew close, but you never expected yourself to develop feelings for Hope that were deeper than friendship. You believe they started when she let herself really smile and laugh at your dumb jokes. Something about the way her eyes crinkled when she was really happy made your heart grow three sizes. 

You’ve made it a point throughout your friendship to tease Hope anytime you saw her show concern for you and your friends.

“Is this the Hope Mikaelson worrying about someone?” Your voice was already starting to sound groggy and you could feel the poison spreading up your body at a painfully slow pace, “You sure you weren’t shot, too?” You ask, feeling her head with the back of your hand which she quickly removes with her own, “You’re cute when you’re worried, Mikaelson.” 

“I can’t believe you're making a joke of this right now.” She tells you, not letting go of your hand. 

“Sorry. Would you prefer that I act out the excruciating pain this Malivore bullet is making me feel, instead? I could also make a list of every body part that feels like it’s on fire if you have the time.” The serious look in her eyes only made you smile more. You never let your sense of humor falter, even in your possible last moments. 

“Why do you always do that?” Hope wonders with a half-hearted chuckle as she shakes her head at you.

“Do what? Be unbelievably hilarious even though I’m on my way to my impending doom?” You hush your voice as low as possible so that Lizzie and Josie couldn’t hear you from the other side of the cell. As much as you enjoyed making a joke of this situation, you weren’t sure the twins would feel the same way.

“You just smile and act like everything is okay. Like you aren’t in any pain.” 

You in fact were in the worst pain of your life, but the last thing you were going to do was let her see that. The infection of the bullet had made its way to your lower back at this point and it felt worse than any other sort of pain you’d ever felt prior to this moment. 

Seriously, you’d rather shift into your werewolf form for the rest of the day than feel this bullet destroying you from the inside out. 

“Well, maybe--let’s say this situation goes sour and we can’t figure out how to get the evil mud out of my body--I don’t want you to see me in absolute agony and I don’t want that to be the last thing you remember about me.” 

Hope squeezes your hand, not even wanting to imagine how you must be feeling right now. 

You squeeze hers back, “But I know with you here, I’ll be okay no matter what happens.” 

Tears began to fill the bottom of her eyelids, making the usual spark in her blue eyes--that you also started to fall for--go dull. Seeing her on the verge of crying caused your smile to fade. 

She had lost so many people she cared about because of her and she didn’t want you to be the next. The thought of that hadn’t crossed your mind until now. 

“Hope, it’s going to be okay.” You tell her with the most assurance you could. You knew that the chances of you surviving this weren’t certain, but the last thing you wanted to see was Hope cry. The sight of that would be more painful than the bullet.  

She nods silently before leaning her forehead against your shoulder and squeezing your hand with all the strength she could muster. You squeezed back, assuring her that you still had a good amount of your own strength left. 

Then you pressed a kiss to the top of Hope’s head, “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper into her hair, “There isn’t anyone else I want listening to my stupid rants and laughing at my dumb jokes. Come to think of it, I don’t think anyone else would.”

A small chuckle manages to escape the tribrid and when she looks back up at you, you can’t tell if she thinks you're the biggest idiot in the world or the greatest person to exist. You decided to go with the second one judging by the faint smile she was giving you. 

It wasn’t until a few seconds passed that you realized how close her face was to yours. Her nose could practically touch yours if you were to slightly rotate your head to the right. 

Super hearing or not, you were sure that everyone in the cell could hear how fast your heart was beating right now and it wasn’t because of the Malivore bullet. 

You glanced down at her lips for less than a second and that was all you needed to do to know that you really wanted to kiss Hope Mikaelson. It wasn’t like you haven’t wanted to in the past, but in this moment you thought that this could be your last chance.

“Hope, I-”

The moment vanished at the sound of a familiar vampire running towards your cell--MG. Josie remained on the bed while you, Lizzie and Hope talked with him from behind the bars that he had now unlocked. 

After being caught up on how his mother is an agent working for Triad and that there’s a terrifying bloody skull sculpture in the school tunnels that’s blocking off the witches’ magic, you looked over at Hope. 

“Looks like that’s your cue,” she looks at you and Josie, who is looking a lot paler than earlier, “The school needs you and so does Landon. Go be a hero, Mikaelson.” 

Hope gives you one last awed smile before taking a confident step towards you and gently pulling your neck down to meet her lips with yours. To catch yourself from falling forward in surprise, your hands find her waist and you let out a content sigh. 

For a moment, the pain from the Malivore bullet was long forgotten and all you had to focus on was the beautiful woman in front of you. You couldn’t care less that Lizzie, Josie, and MG were witnessing your first kiss with the tribrid. In your mind, they weren’t even there. For all you knew, it was just you and Hope in the world.

The kiss didn’t last nearly as long as you wanted it to, but given that some of you were in a life or death situation, you thought maybe it was for the best. When Hope pulled away, she leaned her forehead against yours while her fingers still traced along the back of your neck. 

“Now, you really better come back.” You say breathlessly, feeling another smile grow on your face. 

“You better be here when I do,” she whispers with a hint of seriousness in her voice. 

“Will I get another one of those if I am?” 

She smiles, taking a small step away from you, “We’ll see.”

~

this is my first time posting an imagine like this, so i hope you guys like it ;) i’m making this a little mini series (idk how many parts yet) but part 2 will be coming very soon! 

[jawritter]

Mirror Mirror

Summary: It can be hard to be married to someone you see as virtually the most beautiful person in the world, when you don’t see yourself that way, and all eyes seem to be watching.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Sized!Reader

Warnings: Floooffff, tooth rooting floooffff!! Lol, Flangst, probably the flangstiest flangst I’ve ever flangsted. Language, self hate, insecure reader. Jensen's is a complete fucking sweetheart. That’s about it I think.

Ward Count: 2249

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much love!

A/N: Okay guys! This fic was one I wrote before the final and now I’m glad I wrote this baby before hand, because while I’m still working on the comfort fic you all requested, It’s taking me a little to get my emotions under control! So, that being said, enjoy this one guys! The Jensen x Reader comfort fic which will be titled Pieces Of Me, will be here as soon as I can guys! Feedback is gold! Please do not copy my work!

***MASTERLIST***     ***BECOME A PATREON***

You stood in front of the most dreaded object in your house with big, ugly tears rolling down your reddened cheeks. 

The mirror. 

There was a stack of dresses in expensive bags behind you, and a pile of matching shoes scattered across your bedroom floor. You had been at this for more than three hours, and nothing you put on looked right to you. 

Your eyes rake over the image of your disgruntled self in the mirror as you run your hands down your not so flat stomach; all the way down to your thighs that were a lot thicker than what was considered “pretty” by most standards. 

Every dress you put on today seemed to do nothing but accentuate your worst features, and highlight the things that you were the most self conscious  about, and today was the last day you had to pick an outfit for the awards ceremony that your husband had to attend in California. You were flying out first thing in the morning, and you still had nothing to wear. The thought  utterly terrifies you. 

You turn away from your reflection in disgust and sit down heavily on the foot of your bed, your head hanging down as the tears flowed heavier from your eyes onto the black satin material of the dress that went down to your knees. 

You hated awards ceremonies, and this was why. You hated all public appearances where you had to be seen by the fans with Jensen, but awards ceremonies were like next level humiliation for you. 

You didn’t have the body of the actresses and supermodels that walked the red carpet alongside your husband who was WAY the hell out of league. You were a little overweight, and you always had been. No matter how many miles you got up early to run in the morning, or expensive gym memberships you wasted hard earned money on, you were still on the heavier side. 

Diet pills either did nothing, or made you sick. You weren’t heavy enough for surgery, and even if you were you would be terrified to take it that far. Diets themselves did NOTHING, and you had done some pretty extreme diets since you met and started dating Jensen. Once you had  married him, you continued to try and lose weight, even though Jensen insisted you were beautiful. 

You never told him, but you had seen the comments on social media concerning Jensen’s “fatass of a wife,” and how “he could do so much better than that.” The one that stuck with you the most was, “I bet on the rare occasion he does have sex with her it’s when the lights off.”

People were cruel, and when they were able to hide behind the safety of computers they were even more cruel than usual. You knew that if you didn’t look just right on the red carpet tomorrow with Jensen, if you didn’t look like the woman he deserved to have on his arm, and not just yourself, they would tear  you both apart. 

You were so lost in your self loathing that you didn’t hear the front door close, or Jensen’s heavy footfalls making their way closer to your still open bedroom door. When he first caught sight of you, and all the clothing bags and shoes that littered the room, his heart fell to his feet. He wished you could see you the way he saw you, he wished you could see just how beautiful you were. He’d been trying to help you see it for years, but when big events like this come up they seem to drag out all those old insecurities that broke his heart almost as bad as they broke yours.

Jensen made his way over to you as you quickly tried to wipe the tears from your face to hide the fact that you were crying and knelt down in front of you, taking your hand in his own while cupping the side of your face with his free hand, making you look up into his piercing green eyes that looked sadder than you expected them too.

“What’s wrong baby,” he asked you, catching a stray tear with the pad of his thumb and wiping it away before it had a chance to join the other’s on our lap. 

You just shook your head and tried to look away as you attempted to swallow the giant lump of nothing that formed in your throat. Jensen was having none of it, and moved to sit on the bed next to you, shoving the bags out of his way so that there was a place next to you. 

“Come on pretty girl, talk to me please. What’s got you so upset?”

You knew he wasn’t going to let it go, so you tried to take a deep breath to steady your nerves. You didn’t want to melt into a weeping mess in front of him, not over something like this, but everything just seemed so amplified lately. All the stress caused your emotions to get out of control because you really had no idea why you were stressed, you just were, and everything just seemed overwhelming lately. 

“I’m fat Jay,” you tell him, hating how thick your voice sounds from all the crying you’d been doing for hours now. “I’m too fat to fit into anything, and look good enough to go to this awards thing with you. People are going to make fun of you for being married to a fucking whale. Maybe I should just stay here in Austin.” A dark chuckle formed in your throat at the thought you never intended to say aloud, but did anyway. “Maybe you should just divorce me and find someone who’s more your speed.”

“Wait a minute, woah, where is this coming from?” Jensen asked, turning to face you on the bed, and cupping your face in his large hands. “Baby girl, you are NOT fat! Why would you say something like that?” 

You jerk away from his hold, emotions getting the better of you as you stood to your feet in front of him, gesturing to your body that was still squeezed into the black cocktail dress that you hated so much right now. “Are you blind? Look at me Jensen! I’m fat! I don’t need you to lie to me because you feel that you have to because we’re married! I’m not a moron. I look in the mirror everyday! I’m FAT!” 

Your tone was harsh as it all tumbled out of you, but Jensen just gave you a sad look, not interrupting, just letting you get it all out of your system. Once you were done, and just flopped back down on the bed in defeat, Jensen grabbed your hand, and pulled you over to the mirror, stopping you in front of it, and guiding your gaze to the reflection that was staring at you as he stood behind you, brushing your hair away from your face as his eyes raked down your body. 

“Can I tell you what I see?” He asked, but you just shook your head, and tried to turn away, but he stopped you. 

“Jay, please, I know what I look like....”

“I never said let me tell you what you see, I want to tell you what I see.” Jensen said, turning you back to the mirror as you let out a deep breath in defeat, choosing silence in fear of hurting his feelings when he’d done nothing wrong. 

“I see a strong, beautiful young woman, who is way more than I ever deserved. I see a woman who knows just what to do to drive me crazy in the best ways. I see someone that’s stood by me when most people would have walked away from me. I see a woman who I can’t go to sleep at night unless she’s tucked into my arms. I see my reason for waking up in the morning. I see the woman I love with everything in me. I see the woman I want to have a family, grow old with, and be buried next to someday.”

He reached around and brushed the tears aways before leaving a trail of soft, open mouth kisses down the exposed skin of your neck and shoulder. His big hands slide down to lay over your stomach that you hated so much before his eyes met yours in the mirror, his gaze soft and warm laced with love that you sometimes forgot to look for when you needed to feel it the most. 

“I don’t love you because of the way you look, but baby let me tell you nobody drives me as crazy as you do. Do you seriously think some skinny little bitch could handle me? Baby girl, I’d split her open,” he all but growled, nipping at the shell of your ear to drive his point home, sending a warm shiver down your back, letting you momentarily forget what you were even upset about as heat pooled through your body at the slightest touch.

“Those women in the industry, they’re not real women. You have the body of a real woman. Safe, warm, mine.” Turning you abruptly in his arms his lips found yours in a heated kiss that left you breathless and your world spinning when he finally pulled away from you. “I don’t want you to ever say that you're fat again, because you're not a baby girl. To me you're perfect, and that’s all that matters. I don’t give a shit about what people think. If they attack my girl, then they will live to regret it. You're gonna be the most beautiful woman on the red carpet tomorrow night, and when we get back to that hotel room, I’m gonna show you just how crazy that damn dress is driving me.”

Jensen's gaze darkened as his eyes roamed your body, and he licked his lips as if already plotting just how he was going to ruin you when you got to California. 

“Why wait until tomorrow night, when we got all night to pack?” you asked him, running your fingers through his hair that had been getting longer ever since Supernatural had ended, enjoying the almost purr that fell from his lips as he nuzzled deeper into your touch before his gaze found yours again, pulling you tighter into his hold. 

“Because, I don’t want you to get mad okay? But there’s something I really want you to do for me right now,” he said, his eyes searching yours waiting on your response, and when you said nothing, just stood there on pins and needles, he brushed your lips with the pad of his thumb and placed his lips to your forehead before he finally told you what was on his mind. 

“I want you to  take a pregnancy test for me,” he said in a soft voice, so soft that you almost weren’t sure you heard him correctly at first, but pulling back to meet his gentle gaze you knew you had. 

“A pregnancy test?” you asked him in disbelief, still unsure whether you should be offended or not. 

“Baby, hear me out,” he said, sensing your change in demeanor. “You’ve been really emotional for a few weeks now. This isn’t the first time I caught you crying this week, and not just over something like this. You’re also three days late for your period, and we have been trying. I think you might be a pregnant sweetheart. It would explain why you're feeling this way.”

You swallowed hard and nodded as you thought back over the emotional wreck you had been all month long, and the longer you thought about it, the more you thought he could be right. 

Giving him a quick peck on the lips, you slip out of his hold, and make your way to the bathroom to take the test. Your brain and body felt numb as your mind rolled over possible symptoms. The queasy feeling you passed off as bad Chinese food. The headaches. The extreme fatigue. The late period. 

You didn’t even get the cap on before two pink lines appeared on the screen in front of you, and tears filled your eyes as you felt Jensen’s strong arms wrap around your middle, pulling you into a kiss that knocked the wind slap out of you. In that moment, it didn’t matter what the mirror said, or the assholes online said. At that moment, your body didn’t feel like an utter failure. All you could think about was the little miracle growing inside of you as you both held onto each other for a moment, and when Jensen turned you to the bathroom mirror, both of you with wet eyes and happy expressions staring back at you, Jensen brought his lips down to the top of your head. 

“See, I told you. Now baby, do you see what I see, because I see my beautiful wife, and mother of my child. What I saw from the moment I met you.”

You nod and turn to press your lips to his again, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks, now that it all made sense as to why you were all over the place all week. Your body was doing just what it was designed to do, and for the first time, you looked in the mirror, and didn’t hate what you saw.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons​ @rvgrsbrns​ @chevyharvelle​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @i-love-superhero​ @akshi8278​ @lyss-dw79​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @defenderrosetyler​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @thecreatiivecorner​  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624​ @busy-bee-angel-misska​ @justanotherwinchester​ @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @idksupernatural​ @lyarr24​ @amandamdiehl​ @love-jackles-37-blog​ @miraclesoflove​ @Waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth​ @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel​ @softsebastian​ @tatted-trina6​ @anaelsbrunette​ @hayleeharling​   @flamencodiva​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @bxbyizzy @dirty-pan-goblin​ @itmejado​ @supernatural3002​ @teresa-67​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @hearteyes-j2​ @miss-nerd95​ @writers-whirlwind​

Mirror Mirror Tags: @tuataracda123 @woodworthti666​

[unfunny-quips]

Shouta had been sized up before. 

Many times during his life, in fact. As a student, as a hero, as a teacher. He’d always met the assessments with the same steady, unflinching gaze of his own. He knew his capabilities, and no amount of side eye or stare down would make him think twice.

That did not mean he was in any way prepared for Midoriya Inko. 

Nezdu’s assistant - soft spoken, unassuming, and sweet - had a way of making her scrutinizing gaze seem gentle as it swept over him. Her sharp eyes taking in every detail, weighing and measuring every fact she gathered. She always had a bright smile and a kind word, a gentle hand to guide when needed. And yet, somehow, she was one of the very, very few people Shouta had ever met that made him nervous.

It shouldn’t have been surprising, he supposed. For all the things he had faced down in his career, he had never faced true, unwavering evil the way she had. The green haired woman had been married to the single most dangerous man in Japan - very possibly the world - and had come out of the experience with her heart of gold intact. 

An impressive enough feat on its own merit. That she had managed to pull one over on that villain - gathering up her sons and a damning amount of information and sweeping them away to safety before All For One had even a chance to understand what was happening - that was terrifying. She’d stormed the police, stared down the Symbol of Peace himself, and forced the Hero Commision themselves to give her a deal placing her family in the highest amount of security available. 

Most terrifying of all, she had impressed Nezdu.

The woman was a force of nature and Shouta was smart enough to know he wouldn’t survive the storm if it’s ire was turned on him.

Midoriya herself, dressed disarmingly in a smart grey suit with a teal blouse, finally brought her gaze to meet his and offered him one of her cheerful grins. It was warm and soft, the kind of thing mothers gave he supposed, not that he had a terrible lot of familiarity with that. The gentleness of the smile did not make him forget the steel of her spine or how she could make that smile turn predatory when the need arose.

“Aizawa-San, it’s lovely to see you today!”  She greeted him, standing from her desk - immaculate and clearly organized to the height of perfection - and rounding it to greet him. 

He should have anticipated the crushing hug she’d pulled him into, but as always her unwavering cheerfulness had sent him off balance and she’d pressed her advantage before he could regain his senses. She did it with all the staff, with the exception of All Might and Nezdu. Aizawa suspected All Might’s great height - even in his skeletal form - prevented her from pulling him in for one of her crushing hugs. Nezdu, for his part, was a fellow apex predator and therefore exempt from such treatment.

He wished, not for the first time, that Zashi had come with him. He sometimes was able to hide behind the other man when Midoriya Inko started hugging. Sometimes. 

Then again, she’d sometimes just sweep the both of them up at once, and Zashi took it as an invitation for a group hug, trapping Shouta entirely.

“Midoriya-San.” He awkwardly greeted when she’d released him. She ignored his discomfort, and moved back towards her desk where a stack of papers waited.

“You’re just in time, I just finished compiling the pre-approved applications for the transfers. Oh!” She paused, turning away from her desk and darting through the door just off her office to the small kitchenette hidden there. He blinked after her, feeling bewildered, and watched as she moved to pull two bentos from the fridge. “I noticed your schedule today didn’t allow for lunch.” She told him, shoving one of the bentos into his hands. “So I thought we could enjoy a meal while we reviewed everything.”

He barely managed not to fumble the container as she dropped it in his hands, whisking off to sit at her desk before he could even think of refusing. He blinked after her, then turned to the bento. The fabric it had been tied into was a soft blue and printed with adorable chibi versions of Hizashi in fully hero gear. It was adorable and mildly terrifying to think she had noticed something in Shouta he thought he’d locked down and hidden away years ago.

“You didn’t have to, I have -” Any protest he might have made died the moment he glanced up and saw the sharp look in her eyes. She was still smiling, but there was a certain gleam of warning in her gaze as she looked at him.

“Protein pouches are not an appropriate substitute for a proper meal.” Midoriya said with the kind of finality that left no room for argument. Not that there would be any. Shouta certainly wasn’t going to be fool enough to pick a fight he knew he couldn’t win - more than once, at least. Especially not when she had that soft, warning expression pointed at him.

Instead he clamped his mouth shut and took the seat across from her, dutifully untying the knot in the colorful bento wrapping at her warning glance. Inside he found onigiri made to look like cats tucked in with a variety of protein rich, healthy foods and some apple slices cut to look like bunnies. 

It was adorable. 

How she managed to find time to make him something so elaborate and cute while balancing care for Izuku and Tenko, the running of the school and keeping up with Nezu while also being constantly vigilant for her villainous estranged husband was beyond him.

“Now there were a number of transfer requests made to get into 1-A” Midoriya began, glancing over the documents on her computer after she had ensured that Shouta was indeed eating the food she’d given him. “About two hundred total. Most of them were sifted out due to grades and overall performance which brought it down to sixty-two. From there we accounted for teacher evaluation to whittle it down to a more reasonable seventeen.”

She pulled up a list, tilting her screen to better show him the names and pictures of seventeen promising first years. Hitoshi, as expected, had made it through the initial two stages of the transfer process. Just two more stages to go.

“Interviews have been scheduled to speak to their classmates, friends and family. Nezdu suspects will have only seven or eight remaining afterward those have been conducted.” Midoriya explained, casting another warning glance at Shouta to ensure he was still eating the lunch she’d prepared for him. He dutifully began digging into a Tsukune. Satisfied, Inko unwrapped her own bento and allowed Shouta to review the short bios of the students as she ate her own lunch.

Each student he reviewed gave the impression of a serious hero course candidate. A class full of good students who hadn’t made the cut initially due to a system biased against their quirks. Nezdu expected nearly ten of them wouldn’t make the interview process, and Shouta didn’t doubt the principal’s estimate, he was rarely wrong about such things. Usually there were only three or four remaining after the interviews, it was an unusually adept group that year it seemed.

After the interviews would be the practicals, followed by the faculty review of those remaining. Despite his personal interest, Nezdu had permitted him to remain on the faculty board to judge the students, confident in Shouta’s ability to remain objective. 

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Midorya said, breaking him from his thoughts. He watched as she set her lunch to the side and turned her attention to one of her desk drawers. “Izuku gave this to me to pass along to you. He was worried he wouldn’t have the chance otherwise with midterms coming up.” A plain file folder was held out to him, innocent looking.

Shouta squinted at it suspiciously. “He could have brought it in during my office hours.” He said, reaching for it anyway. He’d started calling Midoriya Izuku Problem Child in the first couple days of class, but in no way was the boy actually a troublemaker. Only over eager and overpowered with no sense of self protection. He was a good student, though, and a good kid from everything he’d seen and everything Hitoshi had told him. Not one he’d expect to use a go between for passing notes on to his teachers.

Midoirya Inko gave one of those knowing smiles that put Shouta’s hair on end. “I think he wanted to avoid taking any of your time that could go to other students for something that isn’t related to his own school work.”

Shouta blinked at that, then flipped the folder open and blinked again.

“Are these -?”

“Recommendation letters, yes.” Midoriya said, smile growing bright at Shouta’s bewildered expression. “Hitoshi-kun mentioned they’d help him during his application for the hero course so Izuku got some put together for him. I wrote one of my own, and All Might was similarly happy to make a recommendation based on what he’s seen of Hitoshi’s excellent character.”

[bobathirstaccount]

Hard to Find Someone Like You

Boba x fem!reader, slow burn to smut, some romance, fair amount of plot, Post-Mando 2 Boba

You are a merc serving under Fennec at Fett’s Palace. It’s business as usual until a certain helmet starts tilting in your direction...

Translations - Mando’a

Cyar’ika - sweetheart/ darling

Riduur - spouse

Transalation - Twi’lek

keella - sweetheart

TW: unprotected sex

— 2 more chapters —

***

CHAPTER SEVEN

Getting used to your new position at the palace was an ongoing process. The more time you spent standing to Boba’s left, the more people bothered you, looking for favors. Some of the dancers even started to treat you differently. This made you upset; you talked it over with Ayy. “You can’t blame them. You’re a direct line to Boba Fett. And by far the least scary, between you and Fennec.” You considered that. “But I’m a merc in my own right!”

“Not nearly as infamous as Fennec Shand and Boba Fett. You’re the friendly, safe face of the Great Fett.” You glared at her. Dammit. “You can just start giving them ‘the eyes,’ like Fennec does.” You considered, and tried it on Ayy. She smiled, “Keep working on it, keella.” You huffed. “Aside from you pouting over your growing influence, how are things?” She leaned forward, licking her lips. “Girl talk me, keella.” You smiled. She was the only one you tolerated being questioned by. “Good. He... said he was fond of me.”

Ayy spit her drink all over you. You raised both eyebrows, ”Bitch.” She dabbed you with some napkins, “Well don’t do that to me. He’s ‘fond’ of you? I told you he had feelings for you. Can I be at your wedding?”

“Not funny.”

“Just saying... he is pussy whipped,” she pinched your cheeks. “Guess the tales of my escapades came in handy.” You blushed, “Honestly yes. Glad I was half paying attention.” She pinched you. “Well, I should get back to it.” She retreated back to her stage, leaving you with your thoughts.

***

“We’re leaving in 15 minutes, be on the Slave 1,” Fett had burst into the throne room and cornered you and Fennec off to the side. “Din is in trouble.” Fennec’s eyes lit up in recognition. So did yours; you remembered your conversation with the ruler of Mandalore. “I’ll be there.” Fennec dashed off to get ready. You looked up into Boba’s visor. “Is it bad?” He tilted his head towards you and said in a low voice, “Bo-Katan is making a move for power. We will be there to back him up.” You nodded, “I’ll get my supplies off Daesha.” Boba shook his head. “I’m leaving you here, in charge. You are my left hand; if Fennec is with me then you are on the throne.”

Your mouth hung open. Then your eyes narrowed, “Leave her here and take me. She’s better suited to take over for you in your absence.” He shook his head, “You have to learn, ad’ika. It will be fine.” You stared up at him in horror, letting it show plainly on your face. He laughed softly under his helmet, “We will be gone for less than a week. Nothing is scheduled to be going on. All you have to do is sit up there and represent me.” You gulped, “That’s what worries me.” He shrugged, “Your reputation will do more than you think. You are my number 2. No one will question you, as no one questions Fennec. And if they do,” he shifted his weight, “they will have to deal with me directly.” He seemed to grow in size. You smiled, but then became serious again.


He turned towards the throne, indicating you should follow him. He led you to the throne, and watched you step up and turn around. You sat down very slowly, disbelief flowing through you. Your ass touched the seat. You widened your stance a bit, trying to fill up the throne like Boba and Fennec. “Good,” Boba said, looking up at you. “I’m leaving now. You will rule in my stead,” he said this slightly more loudly so everyone in the room heard. With that he turned and left. You faced your court and swallowed.

***

One day turned into two. Three. There was no communication from Slave 1. This was expected; the only time you would hear something was if they were in trouble. But still you wanted to hear from Boba. You stayed in his suites in his absence, and occupied the throne room during the day. You settled some small disputes you thought were straight forward, hoping Boba would be proud of you. In the evenings you held a different type of court in the third floor club. More people started coming to the club because they knew that Fett’s Second would be there. The club was popping by the fourth night of Fett’s absence. You wondered what he’d think about it.

The dancers acted as a wall, and would pull off people who were trying to get to you. Ayy bossed them around for you. You were thankful.

On the sixth day, you received a transmission in the middle of the night. It was Fennec. Your heart sank a bit, but you pressed play.

“Y/N, there was treachery here. We’re on the run back to the Palace. Strengthen defenses immediately and wait for more instructions.”

You shot out of Fett’s suites in a panic, raising your head of security and several others. You carried out Fennec’s orders, and sat on the throne, anxiously waiting for word. Midmorning word came that Slave 1 had landed. You wanted to bound to the hanger, but knew your place. You sent Ayy instead.

Ayy returned shortly, “There’s a lot of people with Fett’s armor. They went to a conference room.” “Fett told me,” she gulped, “he actually spoke to me and told me to tell you to meet them at the conference room.” You jumped up at this, startling her. You ran out of the room without saying anything.

You caught your breath before you entered the conference room. No need to look like a fool. You stepped inside. Seven Mandalorians turned to face you, hands on their weapons.

“This is Y/N, “Fennec said, and they relaxed. She nodded at you, “Fett and Din are having a private meeting.” You nodded and took a relaxed stance. Warning klaxons went off. “Kriff, they’re here!” One of the Mandalorians yelled out.

“To the Daesha, Y/N!” Fennec yelled. Without a second thought you took off, racing towards your ship, the klaxons urging you on.

***

You slammed the take off sequence into Daesha, seeing the ships entering the atmosphere. You took off towards them, incensed. No one would come for Boba.

You were good in a dog fight, and you knew it. You prepared your weapons and increased your speed, intending to engage them as far away from the palace as possible.

Suddenly your comms came to life, “Daesha, wait for us.” It was Boba. Not a chance in hell, you thought. You engaged the enemy Mandalorians, guns blazing. Daesha took a few hits, but you knew she could take it. You targeted one of the ships and merilessly went after it. You quickly overtook it with Daesha’s speed. You targeted. It exploded just in time, Daesha flying through the debris. Your comms crackled to life again, something about pulling back. You turned them off.

You chased the larger ship that had come with the small group of invading ships. Firing at it, you took damage to one of Daesha’s engines. Black smoke trailed behind you. You grit your teeth; she would hold together. Suddenly Slave 1 filled your view screen. You had been cut off. Missiles flew and the invading ship exploded. Other ships from your side were now swarming the area, mopping up the remaining ships. Some fled, but most were destroyed. You started to chase one out of the atmosphere. “Daesha, return to the hanger,” someone was pinging you on the emergency channel. It sounded like Fennec. “I can get it,” you retorted, finally responding to someone.

“Fett says to turn around.” You snorted angrily, watching the ship grow larger in your view screen. There was no way it could outrun you. It was already dead. Frustrated, you pulled back and headed towards home.

***

You had gone to the throne room upon your return to find it empty. You then checked the conference room. There were some Mandalorians, but Fennec had just left for the throne room and Din and Boba were missing. You sighed and headed back to the throne room, where you met up with Fennec.


“He’s pissed at you,” she calmly stated, fixing your hair. You rolled your eyes.

“Daesha and I were fine.”

“I don’t think he saw it that way. In fact, most of us didn’t. You are too aggressive.”

You shrugged, annoyance growing in you.

“He wants you to meet him in his suites in a little while,” she drawled on. “In the meantime, catch me up to speed.”

***

You had caught Fennec up quickly, anxious to get to Boba’s rooms. You wanted to be there before him. Finally you were dismissed. You tried to casually jog to your destination, feeling vaguely idiotic.

He was already waiting, looking out a window. His back was to you. You ran up to him happily. When he didn’t turn around immediately, you stopped next to him, uncertain.

“You could have died today.”

“I was fine,” you shot back.

“I already have the report on Daesha. She barely held together.”

You shrugged, “I knew she would. She’s tough.”

Suddenly you were being shaken by two strong hands. “You could have died!” He roared. You were shocked; in all the time you had known him he had never raised his voice. In fact, when he became angry it usually got softer. You looked at him wide eyed. He gave you a nasty glare. “You are to stay behind the next time something like this happens.” You tried to object, but he squeezed your arms tightly. “Cyar’ika, you are forbidden.” You stared, stunned. “You can’t do that,” you quietly said. “I can, and I did,” he seethed, staring you down. You stared him down right back. “I’m not your pet! You can’t keep me locked up.”

He blinked, surprise showing on his face. His hands dropped. “Cyar’ika, I.. can’t have anything happen to you.” His eyes had changed, from sharp and dangerous to soft and pleading. You stared at each other. His eyes were soft and open. You reached up, putting your hands on either side of his face. You slowly reached up to kiss him. He allowed you, drawing you closer with two hands around your waist. You tried to deepen the kiss, both wondering if you could and just wanting to be devoured by him. Your tongue slipped past his lips and teeth to explore his mouth. He reciprocated, pulling you into a crushing kiss. You didn’t want to come up for air, but eventually you had to. He looked at you darkly. “You’re right, but I can’t reconcile that with my desire to protect you.”

You smiled, “Just let me fight with the boys.”

He dropped his gaze, “But you aren’t.”


“Yes I am. We just also fuck.” You smiled wryly at your snappy comment. He didn’t meet your gaze. Silence stretched. You began to realize you had said the wrong thing. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I mean... you know what I mean...” He remained silent, looking out the window. “I just wanted to kill all of them, coming for you,” you whispered softly. His eyes flicked back to you, “Technically, they were coming for Din.” You snorted, “And his allies. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“Do you know what it did to me to see your ship taking damage?” He said quietly, hugging you to himself.

Your breath caught for a moment, “No.”

“I would go back to the Sarlacc before I let anything happen to you.”

Tears sprung to your eyes, surprising you. You sniffled. “Please don’t say that.”


“It’s true.” He put his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, “Let me take care of you.”

Your inhale caught in your lungs, “You do.”

”I mean really take care of you. I want you to be mine.”

“I am yours already,” you slid your hands around to hold his face. The two of you looked at each other. The air held something electrical in it. He drew you into a deep kiss. His hands started to move over your body. “You’re mine,” he breathed, coming up for air before kissing you again. You moaned softly; he was making you melt into a puddle of desire.

“I am yours, but I’m also my own person,” you whimpered into his mouth. He kissed you again. “You’re mine,” he reaffirmed. He was intoxicating. You didn’t argue anymore. He started to disrobe you, and you worked on his clothes frantically. The two of you fell into bed, a tangle of half-disrobed clothing and limbs. He lifted you up and tossed you into the center of the bed.

“Let me eat that pussy. Let me show you how much I missed you,” he said, pulling at your clothing. You smiled naughtily and finished pulling off your pants. He crawled up to you, an animalistic look on his face. You watched him, anticipating. He roughly spread your legs and grabbed one ass cheek with each hand. He licked from the back of your pussy all the way up to your clit, applying pressure. He rubbed his tongue back and forth on your clit. You threw your head back, moaning.

Two fingers slipped into your pussy as he continued to work your clit with his tongue. You started to see stars already, and grabbing his head you let out a loud, high pitched noise. He laughed into your pussy, and removed his fingers, replacing them with his tongue. He swirled it at your entrance and through your slick folds. You squirmed under him, and he held you still. “Baby I want you inside of me,” you panted. “Which part of me?” He slipped two fingers in and out of your pussy, and returned his tongue to your clit. You writhed, “Your cock. I want your cock.”


“Hmmm,” he considered, mmmming into your clit. You almost screamed. “How bad you want it though? I’m having fun tasting you.”

“Please, please I want your cock so badly. I missed you,” you looked down at him. “I missed your cock in my pussy, baby.” He looked up at you. “Well, if that’s the case.” He crawled up your body until you were making eye contact. He let his cock drag against the inside of your thigh. “Baby, please,” you said. He eyed you darkly, then kissed you softly, penetrating you simultaneously. You moaned into his mouth. He lightly bit your upper lip, then licked up your neck. You wrapped your legs around him, wanting all of him. He fucked you savagely, gripping you tightly. With each stroke he stretched you deliciously. You held on to him and moaned his name to him like a sacred chant. He panted into your ear, “You are all that matters to me, riduur.” You didn’t know what that meant, but took it as a term of endearment you would ask Ayy about later.

You ran your hands down his spine, crying out as you came, pussy clutching around him. “Mmmmm Boba,” you sighed. He gave a few more thrusts and came in you, cock spasming pleasantly. He stilled, then rolled off you. You snuggled into his side, sighing happily. He sighed deeply, and a silence fell over the room. Sleep overtook you

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 26: Parental Moxiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 26 - You can’t see shades of your soulmate’s eye color a certain color until you meet [your soulmate] and look into each other’s eyes for the first time. (I misread the prompt! Whoops!)

Content warnings: mentions of lousy foster system, orphanage, implied past abuse/neglect, social workers, aro/ace character, past minor injuries (pet inflicted), mentions of anxiety and PTSD.

Word count: 2.8k

Note: Not beta-read

Patton never doubted the fact that he was lucky.

His heart always went out to those who were missing colors like green, and blue. It must be horrible, he thought, to be missing out on the hue of a grassy field or the sky forever being grey, even on clear days. But then again, meeting your soulmate after seeing nature as dismal shades for years must be amazing; trees suddenly lighting up in brilliant emerald and water becoming as crystal blue as a diamond. So he was grateful, because he was missing a color that was surprisingly rare to find in nature, if the shocking lack of grey was enough of an indicator. Grateful, because that meant he wouldn’t be missing out. Grateful, because Patton didn’t want a soulmate.

It had taken him years to realize why he was so adamant about actually finding his soulmate. Everyone, from his middle school class to his university study group to his coworkers now, had frequent conversations about the topic. Common ice breakers amongst groups were “what color are you missing?” and “tell us about the first time you saw ‘insert color name here’” and just anything else that reminded Patton of how little he wanted all of that. He was happy with his friends, happy with his family-- both blood and chosen-- and the idea of… romantic relationships just made him uncomfortable. He hated that it seemed to be the rest of the world’s main drive in life. Every time he explained his ‘predicament’, had to explain to someone that he was aro/ace and just didn’t want all that, he was met with pity looks. No one believed him when he insisted that it didn’t make him sad, he wasn’t just waiting for the right person, he just didn’t want it and that was okay. 

That didn’t explain why he was missing a color, though. If it were up to him, he’d spend the rest of his life content with the way it was going, not searching for a so-called “better half”. He wished that soulmates weren’t a thing, in full honesty. Because then he wouldn’t be reminded every time he looked at a dull lilac bush that no, the universe had paired him up with someone and it was only a matter of time until he was subject to meeting them. It was the thing he dreaded more than anything else.

These were the thoughts going through his mind as he fiddled with a pen between his fingers that appeared as grey to him, absently wondering what ‘purple’ actually looked like. The door to his right opened and he looked up, a bright smile spreading across his face.

“Hi, Mr. Sanders. My name is Deborah, I’m one of the social workers here.”

“Nice to meet you,” Patton said, his heart almost beating out of it’s chest. She took a seat across the desk from him, placing the file in her hands onto the pristine wood. He laid the pen back on the desk where he’d taken it from. 

“So,” Her tone was all business, but her eyes held a distinct sparkle that could only be taken as a good sign, “I’m the social worker of one of the children’s profiles you flagged on the adoption website. Do you remember a ‘Virgil Storm’?”

“Absolutely!” Patton remembered the picture of the kid well. A small boy sitting cross legged in a sandbox, looking at the camera with an expression that could only be described as disdain, hands buried in the sand. He was noticeably separated from the group, the hood of his black jacket pulled over his eyes despite the shining sun. After reading the small blurb about him, and immediately growing attached to the toddler that had been tossed around four foster homes in the single year he’d been orphaned, he’d clicked the small smiley face in the top right corner with no hesitation. 

“I was given your file, and after discussing it with your social worker, we’ve decided you two might be a match.”

Patton nearly dropped on the spot, trying in vain to hold back his huge grin, “I thought they said that could take up to a year!”

“That is our usual estimate. While, unfortunately, the adoption rate is a lot lower for single men, you were put through faster due to your profession. You being a therapist definitely pushed you forward in the right direction.” 

Opening the file, she pulled out a stack of papers and a single picture, handing them to him. The picture was the same as the one on the adoption website, so his eyes turned to scan the printed profile.

“This is all his current information. Known family history, allergies, education level, etcetera,” The social worker continued, gesturing to the file, “That picture’s a bit old. He just turned three. He’s had a… pretty rough go of it so far. The information about his parent’s passing are in his file, if you want to give the whole thing a read when you have the chance.”

Patton tore his eyes away from the photo, “And he’s a possible match?”

“Yes, he is. He needs a stable home environment with no pets and no other children, and due to the trauma he experienced, has severe anxiety. Him developing PTSD as he ages is a large possibility. He’s a bit of a tough nut to crack, but we believe he’ll thrive with you.”

He took a deep breath, nodding mutely along with her words. He didn’t trust himself to speak right now, not with the odd mix of pure heartbreak and elation flowing through him. The poor kid…

“You can take the file home, take some time to think about it-”

“No,” He said quickly, “I mean… I don’t need to think about it. How do you determine if we match well?”

Deborah blinked a couple times, taken back by his abruptness. “Well… chemistry after a first meeting, judging if the child’s uncomfortable with the other, and meeting with the child and parent weekly for the first three months, then bi-weekly for the next three. After a six month residency, we can get the adoption legalized by the court. Both your social worker and I will be there every step of the way to answer any questions, help with the adjustment process, and just support you both.” She looked to Patton with a raised eyebrow, “Are you sure you don’t want to take some time?”

“I’m very sure.” He’d flagged many profiles on the website, feeling an unexplainable amount of guilt every time he didn’t, but Virgil’s had stuck with him more than any other. The idea of a kid already riddled with social anxiety and trauma had hit him hard, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to help him through it. 

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Yes please,” He said before she had even finished speaking. She gave him a small smile and headed to the door, warning him it might be a while to convince the boy to come with her, so to just sit tight. 

When she’d closed the door behind her, Patton turned his attention back to the file on his lap. He might as well read it while she was gone, anyways. It didn’t take long for him to read the few pages of information, committing Virgil’s birthday to memory. A small part of his brain advised that that might not be the smartest thing to do, already getting attached to a child he hadn’t even met, but his heart broke reading over the history of someone so young, still a toddler, undergoing trauma that no one should ever have to go through. The poor kid watched his parents die, and they were pretty awful people to begin with. 

He’d read the file twice over when the door reopened. At first he thought she’d come back alone and his heart sunk, until she shifted to the side and revealed the small boy who’d tucked himself behind her. He wasn’t touching her, not holding the hand she had offered to him, just following steps behind, like he was equally scared of her as he was of everything else. Pulled over his head was the same black hoodie as in the picture, looking a size too small now. It took a lot of tugging for him to hide his hands in the short sleeves, an anxious sign that Patton recognized immediately. Though, it wasn’t hard to narrow down, not with the way he was absolutely shaking. 

Patton slid off his chair with no hesitation, smoothly lowering himself to the ground so he was closer to eye level with Virgil. Still, the young child pulled his chin even closer to his chest, adamant on not meeting the man’s eyes.

“Hey kiddo,” Patton cooed gently, “My name’s Patton. You can call me Pat if that’s easier, okay? What’s your name?” He already knew everything about him, obviously, but it seemed a smart choice to let the kid introduce himself; avoid spooking him.

“Virgil,” he whispered back, mouth half covered by the collar of his hoodie. 

“That’s a real nice name, kiddo.”

Finally, the small boy looked up, dark brown eyes barely peeking through his equally dark bangs. His head tilted to the side, not unlike a curious puppy, as he studied the man in front of him, the man who was willingly sitting on the floor for him. None of his foster parents had done that before, and he highly doubted his parents would have ever considered it. Thinking of his birth parents caused him to shrink in on himself slightly.

“How would you feel about living with me, Virgil?” 

He looked down, wrestling his hands free of the dirty sleeves to fiddle with his zipper. “Like a foster home? I don’ like foster homes.” His speech was slow and fumbly, like he was working with new words.

“No, not like a foster home. For good.”

“With other kids?” Hands flat, he pushed his bangs out of his face and ended up letting his hood flop back. “In my last foster home, there were four kids.” He held up four fingers to emphasize his point.

“Nope,” Patton chuckled, leaning over to reattach the velcro on Virgil’s sneakers, “It would just be you and me. But I live really close to a park, so we can go play with other kids any time you want. And I have some friends with kids your age, and whenever you feel ready, you can meet them.”

This seemed to send a flurry of mixed emotions across the toddlers face. He glanced at the social worker, who had taken her seat and was watching the meeting with rapt attention. 

“Do you have pets?”

“Nope. Why, do you like pets?”

He shook his head with clear fear, ruining all his hard work of pushing his bangs away as they fell right back into his eyes, “No pets.”

“Well, then it’s good I don’t have any.”

Virgil gave him a hard look and Patton was silent, letting the child scrutinize him with all the intensity of a rocket scientist. Watching the elder’s hands carefully, the kid dropped to the ground in front of him, slowly meeting his eyes again. Patton couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched across his face. 

“Welcome to the floor, kiddo.” And oh, it was a blessed day, because the tiny smile he got in return was enough to make his heart melt. “Tell me, Virgil, what’s your favorite show?”

“Paw Patrol.”

“Ah, a classic! Do you have a favorite pup?”

“Rubble,” He mumbled after a moment of consideration, scratching at the rip in his jeans, right over his knee, “He’s funny. He falls in the elevator, and he says ‘Rubble ooon the double!’”  

“You don’t like pets, but you like Paw Patrol? Why’s that?” He couldn’t help his own inner therapist coming out.

Virgil shrugged, “They don’t bark loud, and they’re little. And they don’t make big messes or bite. Dogs are cute but I don’t like them. Dogs are too loud and they leave a mess.”

He felt there was probably a lot to unpack there, but that could definitely wait for another day. Deep inside, he knew there must be some trauma buried with that sentiment. “Do you like cats?”

“No. They scratch and bite and hiss too much,” He held up his hand to Patton, showing him the light scars on the backs of them, “We had a cat named Whiskers and he did that. He’d come in my room at night and bite me.” 

“Just as well. I’m allergic to cats anyways.”

“I’m allergic to peanuts.”

Patton giggled, and a relieved expression crossed the younger’s face. “What about fish? They’re pretty quiet, and they for sure don’t bite. Do you like fish?”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, before shrugging again, “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. Maybe if you like fish, we can get some. How does that sound?”

Virgil perked up, his leg starting to bounce from where it was crossed under him, “Really?”

“Yeah, kiddo. We can also get you a new hoodie, since that one seems a bit small.” Of course, he meant to buy him more than just a hoodie, but he might as well start small. The very idea of getting a fish seemed to almost overwhelm him.

“I like my hoodie,” Virgil’s voice dropped and he curled in on himself, wrestling to pull the sleeves over his fingers again.

“Oh, that’s okay! You can keep that one, but we’ll get more, just so you can wear them when this one is in the wash.”

His eyebrows scrunched together adorably, his back relaxing. It hurt Patton, to think that having such basic needs met was a shock for him.

“If you two don’t mind, I’m going to talk to just Virgil for a little bit,” Deborah spoke up, causing Virgil to flinch. “Is that okay with you, sweetie?”

He nodded reluctantly, and Patton took his leave, sending Virgil one final supportive smile before closing the office door behind him. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, before taking a seat in the waiting room. It would be a lie to admit he wasn’t already enamoured with the little kid, but the final decision wasn’t up to him. Ultimately, it would be Virgil and the social worker who would deem it a match or not. Knowing that’s what was happening on the other side of the door was enough to make his leg bounce nervously. 

He passed the time by pulling out his phone and sending a vague update to his friends. The onslaught of messages he got in return, mostly ecstatic, was enough to distract him as he waited to be called back in. Of course, not all the responses were enthusiastic, mainly from his parents and sister, asking if he was sure he was ready for this. Those, he just left on read. Because yes, he was ready. He had been for a long time. 

When he was called back into the room, Virgil was sitting in the much too large chair in front of the desk, his feet pulled up under him again and looking between him and the social worker. His hood was back on his head, sleeves covering his hands once more. 

“From what Virgil and I discussed, it seems we are ready to begin the process of moving him into your house, and beginning your residency period.”

Patton tried not to whoop at the news, grinning wider than he had all day. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this utterly elated, so light on his feet. 

They agreed to show Virgil the home, just to get him used to the layout before finally moving there, and he would come visit during the days for the next few weeks, still spending his nights in the orphanage. It was a gradual transition, one that Patton hoped went smoothly, because oh gosh he couldn’t believe this was happening. 

As he led Virgil out of the building, the small boy hesitantly reached up and took his hand, head tucked to his chest. He was so scared. Patton squeezed his hand a little, heart equally shattered and melted, as he walked to the social worker’s car and let her buckle him into her carseat. They agreed to meet at the house, and Patton pulled onto the main road, music blasting to try and drown out the indescribable joy bubbling in his chest.

If he hadn’t been so distracted, he might have noticed the pen he’d placed on the desk back in the office, would now have been a shimmering purple in his eyes.

[gagmebucky]

my first steve fic... don’t drag me about the characterization please i did my BEST and that’s all the matters, really 😌

[boxer!steve. size kink. doll.] 

His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. 

in which steve can’t resist what he feels for you. (includes boxer!steve x coach’s-daughter!reader, steve’s pov, dirty talk, mild choking, size kink, grinding, unprotected sex, creampie kink, overstimulation.)

—

Steve Rogers has impeccable self control. He knows how to control his emotions, to maintain a clear head amid the mist of commotion, to command his body to follow his head and not the violent, primal instincts that prickle underneath his skin. 

And despite the lifelong effort required to uphold this principle, he’s found great fortune in the endeavor. Most don’t realize it, but in his occupation, there’s a certain level of restraint necessary in order to be successful. He has experienced it on both ends so he’s aware of just how important it is. 

Growing up, he hadn’t known better. In the numerous instances where he’d been provoked and pushed, he gave in; consequently, suffering gravelly. Knuckles split, bones broken and face bloodied, his anger got the better of him, and his opponents always got the benefit. 

But that’s where your father came in, and showed him the way to fight back and win every time, to redirect his mania into his fists and funnel them in tactful blows that resulted in trophy after trophy. Once Steve learned how to do that, everything became a breeze. It’s more than a combat style but a way of living. 

Ultimately, he gets what he wants because he can make logic-based decisions and utilize his visceral drive in executing them. And a wallet fat with unmatched winnings, a house for his family and a luxurious apartment of his own, his name on the lips of the masses, it’s a fucking amazing life—for the most part, anyway. 

Except for the one part: you.

The problem with self control, he has come to realize, is that when he truly desires something, he sees the cons of that thing. Usually, if it outweighs the pros, he’ll stop it before it begins. However, in the case of you, that formula isn’t working like it’s supposed to. 

You see, he knows he can’t have you, and he knows why. You are the daughter of his mentor, the only child of the single reason that he’s evolved into the East Coast’s Golden Glove Champion three times in a row, and pursuing you is beyond disrespectful. 

So why the fuck can’t he get you out of his head? 

That’s what he keeps asking himself. Another glorious win, and it won’t stop rattling inside his skull like a hammer on a gong. The crowd is chanting his name but yours is beating a tattoo inside his rib cage. The post-win rush surges through his veins and hits harder than any blows he’s ever received but spotting the proud tilt of your lips amongst the masses is like punch from God themself.

His clean-shaven jaw locks as the referee lifts his right arm and everyone goes wild, losing your face in the fanfare. This is the part where he basks in it, where he loses himself in the victory of sweat and blood slick across his skin; money and recognition, a reminder of the advantages of self-discipline; his reward of what he gets when he uses his brain and not the urges that prickle underneath his skin. 

This time, however, it’s not as gratifying as it’s supposed to be. No, it’s fucking agitating because instead of being the thing that gets him what he wants, it’s the obstacle in his way. 

He can’t pin-point exactly why the desire is striking him this intensely but he suspects it has something to do with the fact that you’ve just returned after a while, and your father is still gone—which means you’ll be upstairs in the gym’s apartment, alone, when he comes to see you (and he will come and see you, what’s the quote about looking and not touching?). 

The tension in his muscles advises his better judgement not to. The wild thump thump thump of his heart to the tune of your name dictates he find some other not-forbidden girl to release the mania coiled inside him before he does; that, it’s not like you’d mind he greet you in the morning—in fact, you’d understand. 

Except, he feels like a live wire right now, and there’s a pull inside him that feels like you’re the only thing that can fray his edges back into stability. 

You’re on the counter when he walks in. Barefoot, you’re kneeling on the flat surface to reach a high shelf in one of the kitchen’s cabinets. One arm stretched above your head, you blindly search for the contents for a cup, palm slapping against wood as you do. After seconds of failure, a cutely disgruntled noise leaves your throat, and you shuffle up to your toes. 

For a moment, he’s entranced by the display. A smile quirks the corner of his lips, running his gaze down the outline of your figure. Adorned in a tank top and ass-hugging jeans, there’s not a flaw in sight; other than his hands not on you, exploring every inch, crushing your body against his. Oh, that and you’re about to fall. 

“Oomph!” expels in a feminine grunt when you flail backwards and collide with the cushion of his embrace. His forearm hooks around your waist like an anchor and packs you against his chest before gently sliding you down his body to the safety of the ground. In doing so, momentarily, he’s caught up in how you feel against him, your back huddled into his front like puzzle pieces.

Everything about him is big, and it occurs to him that everything about you is small. His herculean stature dwarfs yours: six-foot of towering strength versus your soft, shorter frame. You barely require an ounce of strength to be lifted, and his blood rushes to his lower region with what he can do with that knowledge. 

Subconsciously, he tightens his hold until you tilt your head back to blink up at him with those enamoring big eyes. With that, he snaps out of his daze and relinquishes you with a quiet, “Sorry.” Before you can respond, he reaches beyond to grab the item of your desire and hands it over.

Your lashes flutter. “Thanks, killer,” you breathe cheekily as you accept it, the delayed rise and fall of your decolletage slowly regulating. You step out of his space. leaving him cold in your wake, and pad over to the sink with your back to him. “You did good out there, by the way.”

At the praise, his smile restores, and he inches toward you. “Just good?” he echoes after you’ve turned the faucet on and off and crosses his arms in faux offense.

Lips curled around a drink of water, you whirl around and finish a swig. Droplets glisten on your Cupid’s bow, and he swears you’re doing this on purpose when your pink tongue licks the liquid clean. “Do you really need little ‘ole me feeding your ego?” you tease and lean against the counter. 

“You are little,” he agrees with a perfunctory nod. 

You roll your eyes playfully and set the half-full cup down. “No. You - you’re just huge.” You gesture pointedly at his broad, muscle-laden build; dragging your stare down his squared shoulders to his defined abdomen to the tree trunks he has for thighs. An airy quality lingers in your voice, almost high pitched, as you add, “I don’t understand how your competitors don’t go running for the hills when they see you.” 

Taking another stride forth, head cocking, he observes you. There’s something in your expression he can’t quite explain but it pumps confidence into his blood. He glances at himself, white under armor t-shirt and gray sweats, but there’s no downplaying the physical strength he possesses. “You think I’m intimidating?”

You scoff and shake your head vehemently. “To other people, yeah. Me? Not so much.” A devious grin curves into those alluring lips of yours, and you straighten against the counter (not that it helped any with the height difference). “I could take you better than any of those losers you’ve gone against.” 

He laughs, husky and genuine. “Oh? Is that what you think?”

You stand your ground and encroach upon him, stabbing a finger into his chest. “It’s what I said, isn’t it?” 

Alarm bells ring between his ears, but he’s too lost in the beautiful arrogance on your face to listen. “Okay,” he says then backs up to the middle of the room where space is more ample and beckons you over with both hands. “C’mon then.” 

As he expected, you don’t back down. You smooth your hand through your hair and kick off the bottom cupboard. Rolling your shoulder, you enter his orbit; a friendly competitiveness gleams in your dilated pupils, darkening enough for him to notice beneath the kitchen’s warm-toned luminences. 

Your stance is nothing less than perfection (much like the rest of you). Orthodox, you project your right side but spread your weight evenly through both legs; a smidge wider than your shoulders, you bounce on the balls of your feet. Hands in a loose fist, your elbows are drawn together, and your chin tucks, looking up at him through your knitted eyebrows. 

There’s no question about your combative ability but his just more developed—given this is what he does for a living—so while you’re fast and your punches twist like it comes straight out of the textbook, he has the upper hand. 

In a half-hearted demeanor, he humors you. For a moment, the both of you encircle each other, him with a suppressed smile, you with concentrated brows. Like lightning, you advance on him and push through a superlative jab. But as quick as you are, he’s quicker. 

Deftly dodging your knuckles, he catches your dainty wrist. A squeal escapes your throat as he wrenches it behind your lower back. The swift action draws your body against his once again; the dull ridges of your back molds so close to his front that he knows you can feel the hammer of his heart beating an imprint between your shoulder blades. 

You wiggle briefly, and he has to bite down on a groan at the faint jean vibrations against his sweats, but you eventually relax with a long whine of, “No fair!” 

“You said—”

“Not what I meant,” you interject breathlessly, a salacious underlying in the words that he can no longer play oblivious to—dawning on him in a gut-clenching heat. “When I said I could take you, Rogers, I wasn’t talking about in a fight. Though, I won’t mind if we got a little violent. . .”

His breathing hitches. “I knew it.” A truth he long-buried—the strike of realization he avoided confronting in an attempt to hinder his own feelings—hurtles in his rib cage as he unwillingly accepts the reality you want him in the perverse idiosyncrasy he wants you. That beastly part of him roars in ravenous elation while his practiced erudition advises you in a low and pained plead, almost a groan, “You gotta stop.” 

With a breezy laugh, a twinkling song of laughter, you repeat a doubtful, “Stop?” and do the exact opposite. Your body careens into him, specifically your ass grinding encouragement against the hardening bulge in his pants. “Doesn’t feel like you want me to.” 

You’re right. “I don’t.” The reply rumbles through his chest and wrenches out strangled. The grip on your wrist increases before vanishing altogether. “But you’re Coach’s daughter, and out of all the things not to do, you’re number one on that list.” 

Freed, you twirl around and retain the lack of distance. You look up at him with unwavering seduction. “When you’re looking at me like that, does that really matter anymore?” 

Again, you’re right. But that’s not the issue—not the prevailing one, that is. “I’ve thought about you a million different ways but in reality, I’d break you,” he admits in a ragged exhale and licks his bottom lip. Another analytical once-over confirms his deduction; your danity frame clashing with his would be something beastly. “How would your daddy react knowing I ruined his pretty little girl?”

To his pleasure and displeasure, it doesn’t dissuade your attraction. No, it seems to have heightened it instead. “Is that a promise?” you ask, lust scintillating in your eyes like moonlight on the ocean, and he has to recoil away because you’ve got too much power over him with a look like that. “Steve—” 

Your hand grapples his before he can get far, an earnest strength he doesn’t have to bat an eyelash at. But it’s that—another reminder of your size differences and how easily he could bend and fold you to his liking—that has a carnal current torrenting from the depths of his soul, demanding an innate action. 

On impulse, he lurches forward with an inhuman growl and herds you backward until his hips are trapping yours against the counter edge. His hand wraps around the column of your neck, partially spanning your jaw to tilt upwards. 

“In every one of those fantasies, I use you like a rag doll—fast and rough, never gentle. And you wanna know why? ‘Cause you’re fuckin’ small and it’s the only possible way for me to fuck you,” he rasps, strained and serious, imploring you to understand the gravity of his words. “That’s in the case, that I can even fit inside you in the first place. So, you may say you can handle me but the truth is, you wouldn’t be able to take just one of my fingers.”

The speech is to deter you; invoke some common sense in that intelligent brain of yours because all of his is withering by the second. In lieu of his intention, it excites you further. Your pulse races against his palm but the flames in your gaze tell him it isn’t from fear. “You seem so sure about that but. . . but I don’t think so,” you purposely goad that volatile and competitive aspect of him. “Why don’t we try and see who’s right?”

His jaw ticks. “It’s not a challenge, doll,” he bites out. “It’s a warning. If I tried to get inside you, I’d split you in half in the process.” His eyes flicker down, and your nipples are pebbles against the thin, easily-rippable fabric—you’re testing him, and he’s failing. “Goddamn it,” he hisses underneath his breath. “That - that shouldn’t turn you on.” Bristling, he drops his hand and pedals backward—he’s on his last thread, and it’s his sole chance to make a clear-headed decision. 

“No,” you state simply, following after him. “I - I think you’re scared. I think you don’t want to admit that someone as small as me could take you so easily—and I mean easy—where everyone else fell to their knees.” A coy smirk upturns the corner of your lips. “Though I also wouldn’t be opposed to getting on mine right now.” 

That’s it. The last shred of ascetic lessons from the past six years bursts into ash. The fire ignites an unhinged frenzy, tunneling into his veins and coursing through his blood like the water of a previously dammed river now freed of placating obstruction. 

With unrestricted strength, Steve hauls you into his arms, cording underneath your ass and hoisting you high around his abdomen. In a gnashing kiss, he crushes his lips against yours. There’s no delay in your response, returning his passion in a rivaling degree. 

That formerly-leashed, hedonistic entity within him preens from its shackles and livens with unhinged reign. Electricity crackles underneath his skin and tingles violently in feral need. Every filthy imagining he’s conjured of you strobes through his mind, and he feels like a man who hasn’t eaten in years, and you’re the delectable T-bone steak he gets to devour. 

You moan into his mouth, a pretty vibration he swallows, as he laps up your taste. The musical sound, the way you explode on his tongue, it all goes to his head like a hit off a drug and slithers down his spine to the ache in his cock. 

His hips snap forward, and his grasp on you intensifies; clutching your ass, he’s rocking your center into his cotton-clad erection roughly. Shards of pleasure ricochet through him, but it’s not enough—he needs more, needs more of your titillating sounds, more of your body on his, of you coming undone because of him, you making him fall apart. 

As you writhe against him with breathy sounds, he sets you on the counter and goes for your pants. Logic evades him at this point—like the fact it’d be the same amount of time with less effort it’d be if he slipped off—and his hands tear the denim material down the middle. Using little effort, he continues to remove what separates you, doing away with your panties next. All the while, you’re gasping in surprise and possibly outrage but he can’t focus on that right now. 

“You don’t understand,” he speaks laboredly, shoving his sweats to his knees to reveal he’s gone commando. “How bad I’ve wanted you. How hard it was—how hard you make me—to keep from myself taking you in every disgusting way I dreamed about.” 

Slicked with precum, his veined manhood is just as thick as it is long; past lovers have gawked at the formidable steel, shying away immediately after, and he’s always understood that. But you, you look at him starry-eyed, licking your bottom lip like you want him exploding on your tongue. 

And as much as he’d marvel at the sight of your cheeks stuffed like chipmunk with his cock— has thought how hot it’d sound when you’re gagging relentlessly around him—he’s got his attention lasered on that tiny prize between your thighs. 

A teasing triangle of perfection, daring him to completely abuse and batter as he pleases. You’re glistening like diamonds in the sunlight, effectively blinding him in a bind of corporeal desire—there’s no thinking, only action; no right or wrong, just what he wants.

His hands pinch underneath your knees and slide you to the edge. In tandem, he slots himself flat against your weeping heat, squishing the length of his cock between the split of your slit, burrowing himself there as if it’s his new home. 

Mutual moans and shivers expel through you both. It’s better than he’s ever imagined; mentally-created experience has nothing on the raw reality. Soft like silk, the honeyed aperture of your sex is eclipsed by his tanned thickness, barely shrouding a third of him, his tip twitching at your navel, and it’s a snapshot to behold. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he rasps, jaw locking before he reels you tighter and snaps his hips forward, rutting against your throbbing clit. It’s the match that starts the fire, a million sparks prickling all over that has him taking you like a madman. 

“S - Steve!” you cry, music to his ears, as he hooks his elbows under your knees, bending them over his shoulders, and works your divided folds up and down the length of his translucent-white dribbling cock. Your arms shoot around his neck desperately while you bury your face in his neck, mewling into his collarbone; the vibration unmistakably his name. 

“I am going to fuck you, doll,” he promises through gritted teeth, using his hands palming your ass to grind your little pussy into him harshly, at the same time his hips rock into the assault. “I am going to shove every inch of my cock inside you, make it fit if you can’t. But first—first, you’re going to cum on my cock then you’re going cum around it.” 

Your weight is nothing to his hulking strength, bouncing you in undulation like you’re his own personal fuck-toy (somewhere in that darker, aggressive facet of him chides that’s exactly what you are; a wanton toy to use to his desire). 

Every upward thrust is grating over your bundle of nerves, coaxing gush and gush of your essence. Mixed with his own liquid arousal, it further lubricates his slippery anatomy and empowers quicker ministrations—filling the room with your crescendos of whimpers and moans. 

“Y’like it when I make your pretty lil’ pussy grind against my cock? When the tip rubs over your soft clit?” he says, winded, in your ear as you shake like a leaf in the steel cage that is him. “Or d’you like knowing despite how bad I need to be balls-deep inside you I have to wait ‘cause your tiny pussy won’t be able to take it yet?” 

“Oh. God. Steve—” you moan, raking your nails into his flexing back muscles, and he revels in the faint sting. “I - I—it feels good. Fuck, it feels so good.”

Shocks needle down his spine and gnaw in his lower stomach while static nibbles at his limbs; a prelude to a knee-buckling reckoning. “Y’gonna cum for me, beautiful?” He can feel the tautness constricting in your body, the crook of your calves as your toes curl. “Want you to. Wanna know what’s gonna happen when you do?” He doesn’t wait for a response, especially when you’re borderline incoherent. “It’s gonna loosen you up for me. Get your pussy prepared to take all of my big, fat cock. And, you fuckin’ will. Y’hear me?” 

At that point, he’s unsure whether you nodded or not because your head does bob, but so does the rest of you. His neck muffles your cry as you buck wildly against him, and if that isn’t telling enough, he can feel your engorged nub pulsating with euphoria. 

And he can’t resist it. The threat of his violent upcoming orgasm; the fact that he knows your channel is clamping down hallowly; the earlier declaration of being able to handle him easily, it all overwhelms him. 

In a millisecond, before his mind comprehends what his instincts are doing, his hands slip from underneath your bottom to either side of your slit, and his thumbs spread your opening. He heaves you up, and when gravity brings you down, his well-endowed cock drives into your spasming insides. 

With an audible wet slush and slap of skin, he powers through your channel harshly until he’s seated to the hilt. In the throes of your orgasm—before he could stretch you first like he intended—inches that outwardly reached your belly button, width that dwarfed your mound  invades your walls in one blunt movement. 

The orgasm is still flooding you but it’s combined with the convulsions of vanquished hollowness and encompassing fullness. To be perfectly fucking honest, it’s heaven: snug, fervid heaven. And he wastes no time losing himself in you, fucking you through your stimulation while you’re rendered to a babbling mess.

“Oh - oh, my—Steve!” you squeal as your rubber-band-like resistance desperately tries to accommodate the intrusion of his size. “Big—you’re big—I didn’t realize you were so b - big—” 

“But you’re going to take it, aren’t you? Said you could, swore you’d handle me like no other before, right?” he croons and continues to decimate your swollen valley. “I told you you’d cum on my cock and around it, and that’s what you’re gonna do.” The order has your strangling heat fluttering in delight. “Unless you aren’t as big and bad as you claimed to be.” 

You gasp and cling tighter. “I can - I can,” you whimper, and it’s so cute—he can’t wait to fuck you until you pass out. “Just a minute. I can’t cum yet—n - not yet.” 

He laughs huskily because he knows he’s gonna to make you do exactly that. “Yeah, we’ll see about that, doll,” he practically purrs and cinches you closer so with each pass of his hips, your sensitive clit is chafing against his pubic bone; it has the intended effect of forcing your swollen walls to quiver around him.

“Shit,” you choke. “I can’t - I can’t—”

Motivated by your disbelieving insistence, he reaffirms his grip and pistons through your folds quicker. He ebbs deeper and deeper with the combination of his hips ramming in and his hands controlling your body so your channel swallows him all the way. 

Rising sensations pulse within him at an alarming rate, numbness climbing up his toes to cover him completely, encasing his nerves with an escalating bliss. In a minute, he’s going to blow and empty the contents of his balls into your never ending, clamping depths—and he can’t wait to see your reaction when he does, what it’ll look like to have his thick white dribbling out of you. 

That thought spurs him on, and he abruptly props you on the kitchen counter. There’s no break for your used pussy as he slithers a free hand to fist your throat, laying you flat against the cold granite.

“You are gonna cum for me,” he growls, voice unrecognizable with animalistic carnality. The sheening and flushed exertion on your face, the moans vibrating up your esophagus and the wriggle of your body is mesmerizing and provoking. “And you’re going to make me cum while you do it. Your tiny pussy is gonna milk my big cock until I’m flooding you full of me.”

He ruffles your shirt up and out of the way, giving him a glimpse of the single hottest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. As his hips jut back and forth, the indent of his bulbous tip prods visibly from your stomach; he can see himself bulging low in your belly. 

He releases the unholiest of groans as lightning zaps through him, tactfully shocking his pressure points while his blood pumps to his dick, and he swells bigger inside you. The temperature is boiling to the top, and when your warbling voice breaks into his haze, “Steve—Steve—Steve—!” his eyes snap open. 

His gaze drags further down, he’s greeted with the eyeful of your exploited mound: puffy and swollen from his unyielding, punishing onslaught, your clit peaking through faintly as if beckoning for his touch. Of course, he obliges you—he has zero idea how he managed to deny himself of you in the past. 

The second he thumbs at the little nubbin, you’re sobbing his name and squelching around his cock. In a domino effect, the lava blasts from the bottom of his gut to your enveloping convulsions; sheathed to the hilt, a visual ingrained in his memory of his cockhead pushing up inside your stomach, he pours all the mania he’s kept locked away into you. 

Riding out the wave, he watches how you cream around him when he retreats from you. A ring of clear white contrasts against your bruised sex and his tanned length, the mix of your essences oozing down his balls and onto the floor. 

“Fuck,” he says hoarsely. “That’s hot.” 

There’s a periodic twitch of you, and he glances up to see you staring at him, glossy-eyed but undoubtedly satisfied. “You. . . that was. . . God,” is all you manage, and pride blooms in his chest—at the fact that you kept up, and at the fact he did you good. “You’re amazing.” 

“You did good, doll,” he speaks roughly, the hand around your throat tracing your pulse. “I couldn’t have thought of a better way for this to have gone. . .” Despite his recent orgasm, there’s a hunger clawing back to the surface as he observes the way you’re splayed out like an offering, fucked to the point of limpness. “Or, to be going. . .” 

“S - Steve,” you whimper but it isn’t a protest, far from it, he can tell. 

So he continues to trail his hand to your clit, encircling it while you give a half-hearted bleat. He rakes his teeth over his bottom lip and maneuvers his hips until his growing semi is teasing your cum-dripping entrance. “Y’said you could handle me, doll,” he murmurs and promptly glides right back into you, and a wanton cry tears from your lips. “Let’s see how true that is.” 

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